


Nothing but a number

by dunklenacht310



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Bottom Zayn, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Scenes, Detectives, Gay Sex, M/M, Switching, Top Harry, Top Zayn, blood (it's minor but it's there), homicides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunklenacht310/pseuds/dunklenacht310
Summary: It had taken Louis just three days before realizing something was decidedly off with his new partner, and Zayn had secretly been afraid Louis was just going to alert their superiors and send Zayn back to directing traffic or something, so he’d taken a deep breath and he’d confessed.I can see red numbers on people’s heads, and I don’t know what they mean, he’d said, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for Louis to laugh and declare him batshit crazy.-Zayn is born with the ability of seeing numbers on people's heads, but he still has to figure out what they mean. Harry is very sweet, very caring. Until Zayn figures out his own ability, and suddenly there's something very off about Harry.





	1. No luck so far

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own or know any of the characters present in this work. I only own any eventual original character.
> 
> Disclaimer: I really don't know anything about UK police and how it works except what the internet told me, so I apologize for any eventual error, and feel free to send me a text to correct me.

 

 

 

Zayn was, honestly, a bit tired of all the unexplainable numbers.

“So no luck today either?” his new partner from work, Louis, asked over the pint they got to celebrate a full week since they’d been paired up by their inspector. Louis was a sergeant detective, barely one rank above Zayn who was still just a constable, but Zayn didn’t really mind. He loved the work on the field, because having contact with a lot of people meant more chances of making sense of the numbers. Probably, at least.

Zayn shook his head. “Nope” he said, taking a sip from his beer.

It had taken Louis just three days before realizing something was decidedly off with his new partner, and Zayn had secretly been afraid Louis was just going to alert their supervisors and send Zayn back to directing traffic or something, so he’d taken a deep breath and he’d confessed.

_I can see red numbers on people’s heads, and I don’t know what they mean_ , he’d said, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for Louis to laugh and declare him batshit crazy.

Louis, to his credit, hadn’t laughed. He’d just nodded. “What do you see on my head?”, he’d asked.

“A red one. I usually see zeroes. Some people at the precinct have ones, twos, or even threes. Never more than that, I’ve never seen numbers higher than threes” Zayn had explained.

Louis hadn’t told anyone in the department, and he’d always taken care to ask Zayn every day if he had any luck in figuring out what the numbers meant. So far, Zayn hadn’t had any luck.

“I’ve always seen them, since I knew how to count” Zayn mused, circling the tip of his finger along the rim of his glass “But I’ve never understood their meaning. Why is zero so common? Why don’t they ever go past three?”

Louis sighed and nodded. “I dunno, mate. It is weird. Does, like, anyone in your family have the same ‘ability’?”

Zayn shook his head. “No. I think my mother honestly thought I was crazy when I was a child and I was babbling about seeing numbers on people’s heads. And when I grew up I noticed, and I stopped mentioning it. But the numbers stayed”

“Are they always red?”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah. Always red”

Louis sighed again and patted Zayn on the shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Malik. We just need to _think_ a bit more. And we’re ace at thinking, that’s why they paired us together” he offered with a grin.

Zayn chuckled. “Shut up, Tomlinson. Everybody at the PD knows you threw a strop when they paired you with ‘the kid’, your words, I believe”

Louis shrugged. “Yeah well, I’m the cleverest sergeant in the department, and they pair me up with the young constable all of a sudden. How long you been working at the precinct, three days?”

“Four months” Zayn muttered.

Louis laughed and patted Zayn on the shoulder again. “Don’t you worry, my sweet summer child. I’ll teach you the ropes and make a real detective out of you”

“I already am a real detective, cheers” Zayn mumbled.

Louis grinned. “Oh, so tomorrow’s not gonna be your first interrogation?”

Zayn didn’t reply, because Louis was kinda right. Zayn had always been on the field, talking to suspects and making the arrests, but he’d never worked at the precinct itself, with interrogation and _actual cases_. He smiled to himself, because that had changed last week, when he’d solved a case all by himself in a matter of hours, and the inspector had thought he’d been of better use if he paired up with Tomlinson, who was indeed very clever but sometimes needed someone to ‘ground him a little bit’, the inspector’s words.

“Don’t smile to yourself like a lunatic, you’re already one” Louis scolded him, but still with a smile “Let’s head home now. We got an early start tomorrow” he added, finishing his beer and standing up.

Zayn nodded and did the same, still grinning.

 

*

 

In his whole admittedly not long career in the police, Zayn had rarely been at the precinct itself, if not to pick up the car and start his shift, always paired with random officers.

He took a last drag from his cigarette and stubbed it into a nearby trash bin, smiling. That had also changed. Starting that day, Zayn was a real detective, with a real office at the precinct. He was done with roaming the streets in the police car, waiting for something to happen. He was going to have cases, and solve them, and bring people to justice _for real_.

“Yo, kiddo” someone greeted him with a laugh as soon as he entered the corridor where his and Louis’s office was.

Zayn glared at the officer, because he didn’t even know him, so it was kinda rude of him to call him that. Zayn focused on his face to ignore the red zero shining on his head.

The officer, ‘Payne’ read his nametag, laughed again. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t like to be called a kid, do you?”

“I don’t appreciate it that much, yes, considering that I am in fact not a kid” Zayn replied politely, still walking to his office.

Officer Payne followed him. “Louis said you’re the most promising new detective in the precinct?” he offered with a grimace, like an apology.

Zayn chuckled. “Cheers, officer Payne”

“You can call me Liam” he said “Known Louis my whole life, I have. He can be a lot, but he’s a good egg. A bit reckless, sometimes. Scares the shit out of me”

Louis was, in fact, a lot, which was the very reason their inspector had thought he needed a partner. Not that Zayn complained, because that was also the reason he’d been promoted. “I’ll keep him safe, Liam” he said, because he just _knew_ that was what Liam was asking.

Liam smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling and making him look so much younger than Zayn. “Cheers, detective Malik” he just said.

Zayn smiled back. “You can call me Zayn” he said, and Liam positively beamed at him.

“I’ll let you do your thing, then” Liam waved at him, retreating back to the bullpen “I’ll see you around, Zayn”

Zayn nodded. “Have a good day, Liam”

 

*

 

Louis had quickly filled Zayn in on the case at hand as they walked to interrogation room 5. Double homicide, wife and child, husband as a primary and only suspect. Zayn had taken a glance to the paperwork, where the pictures of the two bodies were displayed. He took comfort in the fact that the woman and the kid had been shot in the head, which meant they at least hadn’t suffered too much.

“Husband was found at his workplace with the murder weapon in his briefcase” Louis told Zayn as they walked “Not much to interrogate to be honest, but he’s not confessing for now”

Zayn nodded. “He will. It’s obvious it’s him. His wife wanted to divorce him and take the kid, so we do have a motive there” he commented, reading over the file.

Louis nodded. “Yeah. This is gonna be quick. He’s a mess already”

He was right, because when they entered the interrogation room, the suspect was shaking and pale, sweat beads running down his temples. Zayn barely took a glance at the red number on his head.

“Mr. Swells” Louis greeted him “How you doing?”

“How am I doing?” Swells shouted “You’re accusing me of killing my wife and daughter! How do you think I’m doing?”

Louis shrugged, and took a seat in front of Swells while Zayn did the same. “You did have the murder weapon on your person when we searched you, Mr. Swells”

“I’ve been framed! There has to be a way to prove my innocence!” Swells retorted, but Louis didn’t budge. Swells turned his pleading eyes to Zayn, and Zayn noticed Louis’s imperceptible smirk.

_So that’s how you work, Tomlinson? Bad cop and good cop?_ , he thought with a chuckle, and then smiled at Swells. “Tomlinson, the man needs water. You’re scaring the shit out of him, that’s not how we work”

Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re too soft, Malik. Okay, give him his damn water” he conceded.

Zayn stood up and retrieved the bottle of water with a glass, setting them in front of Swells and filling a glass for him. Swells took it, gulping it down and smiling at Zayn. “You believe me, right? You know I couldn’t have done this? I loved them. I loved them so much”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah, I know” Zayn said in his best soothing voice “You loved them a lot, didn’t you?”

Swells frantically nodded. “I did”

Zayn smiled. “You loved them so much you lost your fucking mind and killed them rather than letting them leave you because you’re an abusive husband and father and you beat the shit out of them every night” he added, coldly, still smiling.

Swell’s mouth gaped for an instant, and Zayn didn’t look at Louis, but he knew Louis was observing him with a smirk still on his lips. Swells banged his hands to the table and stood up, but he was cuffed to the desk and couldn’t reach for Zayn, so Zayn didn’t flinch.

“She wanted to leave me!” he roared “I told her I wouldn’t let her. She didn’t listen. She was packing their shit, she wanted to leave! So I stopped her” he hissed, staring at Zayn.

Zayn nodded. “You stopped them with your gun”

Swells chuckled. “Yes, are you daft, you Arab piece of shit? I killed them! I did!”

Louis stood up, and in that moment a couple officers got into the room, starting to uncuff Swells from the table to bring him away. As they took him away, Swells turned to look at Zayn with betrayal, as if he’d honestly thought Zayn had been on his side for even a moment.

“And I’m Pakistani, not Arab” Zayn corrected him with a smile.

Swells spit on the ground, but Zayn didn’t even notice it. Because what he finally noticed was the number on Swell’s head. A red 2 gleamed right in front of Zayn, and Zayn took a ragged breath, sitting down as soon as Swells was out of sight.

Louis patted him on the shoulder. “Good call. He did beat the shit out of them, I noticed the marks on their bodies. Coroner said they were old”

Zayn shook his head and stared at Louis, looking at the red 1 on his head. “Did you kill someone, Louis?”

Louis frowned. “Are you okay? Listen, I know your first interrogation can be intense, and he was a racist motherfucker, he…”

“Louis, have you killed someone? Have you killed _one_ person?” Zayn almost shouted, feeling bile rise to his throat at what all that could mean.

Louis’s eyes grew cold, but he sat next to Zayn. “Yes, Malik, I killed a person, three years ago. He was a suspect and he had a gun and he tried to escape so I shot him”

Zayn nodded frantically. “Your number. One. It’s the people you killed”

“What? Zayn…”

“Swells had a 2 on his head. And he killed two people. You have a 1. And you killed one person” Zayn murmured, stroking his eyes with his hands and trying to even his breath.

Louis looked at him for a couple seconds, and then went out of the room. Zayn barely had time to think before he came back with someone. Two people, one of which was Liam.

“Zayn, this is detective sergeant Horan” Louis said gesturing to the other person “Zayn! Fucking look up!”

Zayn did. Horan was frowning at him. He had peroxide blonde hair and blue eyes and a kind smile, which clashed horribly with the red 24 shimmering on his head.

“Sergeant Horan used to work in the terrorist attacks section” Louis gently said “Niall, how many people have you killed?”

“What is this, Louis?” Niall asked, his voice shaking “What’s wrong with Malik?”

“Answer the question, Niall, please”

Niall Horan sighed. “Twenty-four” he said at last.

“Liam?” Louis demanded “How many people have _you_ killed?”

Liam stuttered. “I… I never killed anyone” he said, and Zayn felt Liam’s red zero burn his fucking retinas.

Zayn pressed his hands more into his eyes. “Oh, fucking hell” he muttered.

All three of them were silent for a long moment, until Zayn finally collected himself and was able to raise his head to look at the three lads staring at him.

“Well, I guess we were lucky today at last” Louis commented “Lads, this is detective Zayn Malik, and we’re about to tell you something real crazy”

 

\---

 

**Three years later**

“How many?” Louis asked staring at the suspect on the other side of the one-way mirror of the interrogation room.

“Three” Zayn replied, which exactly corresponded to the number of victims for that case.

Louis nodded. “C’mon, Malik. You’re the good cop for this one”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “I’m always the good cop, Louis”

Louis laughed. “It’s the eyelashes. They make you look cute and approachable”

Zayn shoved at him as they made their way to the door.

 

*

 

“It’s kind of like cheating, though?” Niall offered that night with a laugh.

Zayn had learned, over the course of those three years, that Niall was exactly what sunshine would look like if it had a human form. Granted, he’d killed more people than anyone in their precinct, but it came with the job, and Zayn was extremely happy it hadn’t fucked with Niall’s colourful soul, because the world needed someone like Niall.

“It’s not cheating, Niall” Louis retorted “It’s just… like, a confirmation”

“You always know whether you have the right suspect for a case, thanks to Zayn’s power. It _is_ cheating” Liam commented as the four of them got out of the precinct.

Zayn rolled his eyes, because he hated when his friends used the word ‘power’ for the thing he could do. He didn’t feel like it was a power at all, because he couldn’t count how many times he’d met someone who would have looked very nice, boyfriend material even, except for the teeny tiny detail they’d killed someone at some point in their lives.

After having finally discovered what the numbers meant, Zayn had spent his time training his ‘ability’. He’d quickly learned to block it, to completely avoid looking at the numbers on people’s heads until he couldn’t see them anymore. But he was still Zayn Malik, and no matter how hard he tried, at some point the need to just _know_ and _make sure_ became too great, and he always, always looked. The results weren’t always positive.

“It’s not a power” he said out loud.

Louis was the one rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we get that. The Curse. Whatever. We have the highest number of solved cases in the whole district, so I don’t care what it is, it’s amazing”

“Not that amazing when you meet a fit bloke and start dating him and then discover he killed his whole family, and you become the one who puts him in jail” Zayn muttered. _That_ whole ordeal had been a fucking mess, and also the reason Zayn had decided he would never date anyone _ever_ again.

“Come on, Zed, it happens” Niall pouted, patting him on the shoulder in what was supposed to be a helpful way.

Zayn arched an eyebrow at him as they crossed the road. “What happens? That your boyfriend of three months turns out to be a serial killer?”

Niall winced. “Who wants fish and chips?” he asked, not even trying to mask his attempt at changing the subject.

Zayn laughed, because Niall was adorable, twenty-four killings be damned. “Yeah, I could use the calories”

Liam scrunched up his nose at the Word That Should Not Be Pronounced, but shrugged when they crossed the street to reach the Fish&Chips booth at the corner. “We’re all gonna die with cholesterol” he declared.

None of them even bothered to reply at Liam’s statement, and they settled at the end of the three-people line in front of the booth.

The guy who was in line before them had a really nice ass, Zayn thought as he fished his packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans. He lighted one, blowing the smoke upwards while they waited, and Nice Ass waved a hand in the air, coughing in a way that could only be described as flamboyant. Zayn noticed his long fingers wave in the air to get rid of the smoke. He was a bit taller than Zayn, with long brown curls brushing a nice set of shoulders, and a flashy shirt with pineapples printed on it.

Zayn turned to look at Louis, and Louis winked at him, having clearly noticed the way Zayn was ogling the guy’s back. Zayn took another drag with a smirk, and the guy waved away the smoke with a showy sigh.

Zayn held back a snort, and concentrated on the conversation the lads were having, which currently was Liam explaining all the good properties of kale while Louis and Niall argued that it was the most disgusting shit they’d ever tasted. Zayn, of course, was on Louis and Niall’s side on that one, but he clearly noticed how the guy in front of him huffed a little chuckle in their direction before taking a step backwards to place his order.

Zayn only brought his attention back on Pineapple Shirt guy when he realized how long it was taking him to place his order.

“Yes, but can you _assure_ me these fish had a happy life before they were killed?” the guy asked.

The girl working at the booth looked utterly astonished at the question, and when Zayn looked back at Louis, he found him equally dismayed.

“Um, sir?” the girl tried “I’m actually not sure…”

The guy sighed. “How can you sell food if you don’t know whether it was happy before? It tastes different if the animals were unhappy, you know?”

Zayn rolled his eyes and took a step forward before any of the lads could stop him. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter? I mean, even if the fish were happy, I guess they stopped being happy the moment they realized they were being killed, yeah?”

The guy gasped and looked at Zayn like Zayn had just insulted his ancestors. He had very big, very green eyes, and his lips were absurdly pink.

“What?” Pineapple Shirt And Green Eyes hissed.

Zayn shrugged. “If you need more time to deliberate on whether you wanna eat the unhappy fish or not, can we step over while you do that? I’m hungry”

“What are you, a monster?” Green Eyes retorted, frowning.

Niall barked a laugh, and the guy was startled. He flinched a little and then looked at Niall. “Sorry, mate” Niall said apologetically “’S just funny that we always use Zayn as the good cop and now you’re calling him a monster”

Zayn rolled his eyes, but when he looked at the guy again, he noticed he was repeating “Zayn” without speaking out loud, as if he liked the way his lips moved when forming his name. Zayn found out he quite liked the movement of his lips as well.

“Is any of you gonna order eventually?” the girl in the booth sighed, annoyed “I ain’t got the whole night”

Green Eyes frowned at her. “That’s not very polite” he commented.

Zayn rolled his eyes again and smiled at the girl. “Two for me. The second’s for Green Eyes here” he decided.

Green Eyes blushed a little bit, and the girl shrugged, serving Zayn two bags of fish and chips. Zayn even paid for both, and handed one to Green Eyes.

“Oh, wait, I’ll…” Green Eyes started rummaging through his pockets.

“Nah, ‘s all good” Zayn grinned “Don’t wanna make you pay for unhappy fish”

Louis, Liam and Niall snorted while ordering for themselves, and Green Eyes frowned again, his blush intensifying. Zayn briefly wondered if that was how he looked when he was aroused as well, and then scolded himself, because really? Over a total stranger? He needed to get laid soon.

“My name’s not Green Eyes, by the way” Green Eyes muttered, reluctantly taking the fish and chips bag from Zayn.

Zayn grinned. “Incredible”

“It’s Harry” he said “Harry Styles. Nice to meet you, Good Cop”

Zayn arched an eyebrow. “My name’s not Good Cop”

Harry grinned. “Incredible”

Zayn found himself laughing. “You’re a little shit, ain’t you, _Harry_ ” he commented, stressing his name. Harry gaped a little, staring at Zayn’s mouth, and Zayn barely managed to restrain himself from pumping his fist in the air “My name’s Zayn” he added, unnecessarily at that point.

“Cheers for the unhappy fish, then, Zayn” Harry smiled, took a piece from the bag and put it in his own mouth, slowly licking his thumb in the process “I’ll see you around”

He turned and started to walk away, but Zayn was so astonished at himself for getting half-hard just because of Harry licking his finger that he didn’t even try to stop him.

Zayn looked at Harry’s ass again as he got further away, and his eyes raked up his whole lanky body without Zayn’s actual permission.

Zayn was a bit more than normally distracted, because when his eyes reached the nape of Harry’s neck, he didn’t manage to shield himself from the number on his head.

A weird, blue 5 stared back at him, just before Harry finally disappeared into the crowded street.

“Fuck” he hissed, his stomach turning.

“Zed? You okay?” Niall asked him, worried.

Zayn nodded. “That guy. He’s a five”

“Oh, shit” Louis muttered, scanning the crowd “Are you sure? Did you see where he went?”

Zayn shook his head. “Calm the fuck down. It’s not like we can stop him, Lou. We don’t have any proof, or any _victims_ for that matter” he admitted “And the number… it was blue. I’ve never seen a blue number before”

Liam nodded. “Zayn’s right. We’re tied up for the moment. And maybe, I dunno, maybe the blue number means something completely different?”

Zayn was surprised by how much he actually wished Liam was right.

Louis sighed. “Okay. Then let’s go home. Tomorrow we can try to look for him, see who the fuck he is. Did you get his name at least?”

Zayn nodded, still staring at the point in which Harry had disappeared. “Harry” he said “His name’s Harry Styles”


	2. The filthiest of liars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry hummed. “Zayn?”  
> “Yeah, Harry?”  
> “Will you think I’m weird if I ask you to tell me a story?” Harry asked “My house is so empty and silent, and I don’t like it. I love your voice though”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual disclaimer: I don't own or know any of the characters present in this work.

 

 

 

Zayn was able to resist for the absurdly long time of five minutes once he got home, before pulling his laptop open and logging in into the PD search engine. He’d typed the name ‘Harry Styles’ into the search bar, and if he thought that name was weird and so luckily unique, he was very mistaken.

He was hit with _a lot_ of matches, too many to even start combing through them without any other info, but upon a first scroll, none of the people the engine offered looked like the man he’d just met.

There were car accidents, robberies, domestic abuses, and even a couple homicides involving ‘Harry Styles’, but none of those people were _him_. Zayn grunted a sigh, and looked for ‘Harold Styles’. The results were just three, and again, none of them involved anyone with those green eyes and pink lips Zayn wouldn’t be able to forget any time soon.

Starting to feel the familiar desperation coming with an impasse, Zayn gave up and sent an email to Winston, the head of the tech team, asking him if he could run a search for the name ‘Harry Styles’, and hoping Ben wasn’t still mad at Zayn about the fact they’d fucked the shit out of each other for a whole night some months earlier and then Zayn had never called him back.

He got a reply that was as quick as it was cold.

_Detective Malik,_

_I will need official documentation and a warrant to initiate the search you are asking for._

_Best regards,_

_Ben Winston._

Zayn grimaced. Well, apparently Winston was indeed still mad. Zayn really couldn’t wait for Louis to find out and take the piss for a whole month. Again.

 

*

 

Zayn stepped into the precinct after a night of shitty sleep, feeling the coffee deprivation in every joint of his tired body. He nodded his good morning to a couple officers as he made his way to the bullpen where Louis, Liam and Niall were chatting around Liam’s desk.

“Coffee” he grunted.

Louis arched an eyebrow. “Well ain’t you a ray of fucking sunshine today”

“Shut up Lou, you know how he gets when he hasn’t gotten any coffee” Niall whispered, and shoved a paper cup of coffee in Zayn’s direction.

Zayn grabbed it and blew a kiss at Niall. Niall was the best.

“So” Louis said after Zayn took his first sip “I take it you thought it was a brilliant idea to ask Winston about your Harry Styles?”

Zayn spluttered a little bit. “Not my Harry Styles. And, how do you even know?”

“Ben asked me this morning if you’d gotten yourself a boyfriend and wanted to be sure he has no criminal record”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell, why would he even _think_ I’d do anything like that?”

“Well, Zayn, Winston doesn’t really have a high opinion of you after the way you ghosted him last February” Liam supplied.

“Ghosted?” Zayn hissed “We just fucked and I made it clear I didn’t want anything more, is that a crime?”

“Let’s put it like this” Niall said “If I had the power of seeing on people’s heads how many hearts they broke, you’d be a 5687, Zayn”

Zayn glared at Niall. “You were supposed to be on my side, Niall”

“Besides, Ben’s concern is kinda legit, what with you having formerly dated a serial killer and whatnot” Niall barrelled on with a grin.

Zayn flipped him off and turned to Louis again. “So? Did you ask him to run the search?”

“As a matter of fact, I did, Zayn, but he still asked for a warrant, and I won’t give him one” Louis stated, crossing his arms.

“What?”

“I won’t, ‘cause I won’t have the gossipiest tech in the precinct go around saying we’re running searches on apparently innocent people just ‘cause Detective Malik got his knickers in a twist” Louis answered “And, because your Harry Styles is right behind you” he pointed with his head at something behind Zayn.

Zayn turned around so quickly he felt a nerve in his neck strain. Harry Styles was indeed there, talking to some officer in the bullpen, a sheer shirt just buttoned halfway exposing his fucking nipples, jeans so tight Zayn almost had a heart attack, and bright blue 5 shining on his head of curls. Harry was smiling politely, holding some kind of box under his arm, and he was within earshot.

“I believe his name is Zayn? I don’t know his surname, I’m afraid he didn’t tell me. But I’ve been told he’s a Good Cop?”

Zayn rolled his eyes at the way Harry sounded like he was capitalizing the words ‘Good Cop’ in his mind, and Liam almost had a stroke when he tried to hold back his laughter.

He didn’t have to, because the officer Harry was talking to laughed out loud anyway. “Malik! Zayn Malik?”

Harry shrugged. “As I said, I don’t know his surname. Anyway, I just brought these for him and his colleagues, the ones who were with him last night, he’ll know who they are. And for you too, because you’ve been very helpful” he smiled “Please tell him Green Eyes brought these, he’ll understand”

The officer eyed the box Harry handed him, and Harry just smiled again and turned to leave. But Zayn was having none of it. He wouldn’t let that guy disappear again, not when he’d been so fucking stupid that he’d _willingly_ stepped into a police department.

“Green Eyes!” he shouted, and Harry froze, his broad back all tense. Zayn honestly didn’t wonder how it would feel under his nails.

Harry turned with a smile, and Zayn reached him. _He’s got dimples. Fuck._

The officer, Smith, handed Zayn the box. It smelled like something fucking heavenly.

“What are you doing here?” Zayn asked Harry, feeling the lads’ stares burn a hole in the back of his neck.

Harry shrugged. “I brought you donuts. To apologize for being rude last night and calling you a monster”

Zayn couldn’t hold back a snort. “Donuts? Ain’t you running on police stereotypes a little bit?”

Harry’s cheeks went very pink. “Oh my God, no!” he exclaimed, running his long fingers through his hair “I just, I mean, you clearly liked the grease on fish and chips, so I guessed you wouldn’t have a problem with the grease on donuts? I didn’t mean…”

“I’m joking, Harry” Zayn interrupted him, regretting his own joke because Harry looked so mortified and cute Zayn wanted to kick himself in the balls “Thank you, this is very nice of you”

Harry chuckled a little bit, and waved his hand at someone behind Zayn. Zayn turned, finding Louis, Niall and Liam waving back at Harry.

Zayn rolled his eyes at them, and then faced Harry again. _Think quickly, Zayn, don’t let him go just yet, think think think_. “I don’t start my shift for another twenty minutes” he said “Can I interest you in some really shitty police department coffee and a cigarette?”

Harry laughed. “I’ll accept the coffee, but I don’t smoke”

_I know. I remember everything. I’m just making you think I’m flirting_. “Oh, bummer. We could have chatted a bit more over a cigarette before I gotta start working”

Harry shrugged. “I can keep you company while you have your cigarette, I don’t mind. I have asthma, so I don’t smoke. But second-hand smoke is not a problem”

_You’re lying, Harry Styles. You were pissed at my second-hand smoke last night. You just don’t know I noticed. Are you that eager to be with me a bit longer?_ “Cool” Zayn grinned “Come with me then?”

Harry nodded, and moved to follow Zayn, but then he abruptly stopped. “Wait, let me…” he muttered, and opened the box in Zayn’s hands, taking out a donut and bringing it to officer Smith, who was looking at Harry like he was the weirdest motherfucker he’d ever seen. Which was probably true. “For your help and concern” Harry smiled, and officer Smith smiled back, still weirded out as he accepted Harry’s donut.

Harry turned back to Zayn and smiled. “Okay, we can go” he said.

“You’re very weird, Harry Styles” Zayn pointed out.

Harry shrugged. “Treat people with kindness” he just answered.

_We’ll see about that, Harry Styles_ , Zayn thought as he brought Harry to Liam’s desk from where the lads were still blatantly staring at them.

“Lads, you remember Harry, yeah?” he asked, introducing them all and watching them shake hands. Harry had bigger hands than Liam, which was remarkable in itself.

Niall laughed. “He called you a monster, we’re not gonna forget _that_ ”

Harry blushed. “I, um, apologized for that. I can be a bit intense when it’s about animals. I was in a bad mood last night ‘cause I’m trying to be a vegetarian and I was angry at myself for caving in and getting fish and chips and so I snapped” he explained, rambling a bit, and Zayn didn’t find it endearing in the slightest, because Harry was most likely a serial killer.

Louis stared at Harry with the hard gaze that used to make Zayn squirm three years earlier. “So you brought us all breakfast?”

Harry lowered his eyes to the floor and lightly tapped the tip of his boot on it. “Yeah, I mean, you were there too and it would have been rude to bring just Zayn breakfast”

No one _that_ thoughtful could be real, Zayn thought as he exchanged a glance with Louis. Liam, though, who was the softest of them, smiled at Harry and looked like he was about to coo all over him, so Zayn cleared his throat and filled a paper cup with coffee, handing it to Harry with his Good Cop Smile. “Join me for that cigarette?” he asked.

Harry nodded, shaking his hair and combing it backwards with his hand, and politely waved at the lads before following Zayn out the back entrance.

“Why does your friend hate me?” Harry asked, turning the coffee cup in his hands.

Zayn frowned as he leaned with his elbows on the railing of the little porch they were under, and he lighted his cigarette before replying. “Who?”

“Louis?” Harry said “He looked like he hated me?”

Zayn chuckled, blowing the smoke away from Harry. “Louis always looks like he hates everyone, don’t mind him”

“Oh. That’s sad”

“Why’s that?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I prefer smiling over glaring. But I reckon the glaring comes in handy with your job. You can be all fit and intimidating at your suspects and make them confess”

Zayn found himself laughing earnestly. “So you think Louis is fit and intimidating?”

Harry blushed. “Intimidating for sure. And I guess he’s objectively aesthetically pleasing? I think you need more than that to be fit though”

Zayn smirked. “And what do you need to be fit?”

“Good cheekbones” Harry blurted out, and then gasped, closing his mouth and pressing his lips together so hard they became a thin, straight line.

Zayn laughed again, harder. No, that person definitely _couldn’t_ be real.

“Made a fool of myself again just now, didn’t I” Harry muttered.

Zayn didn’t worry about how easy it was to lean a little bit more into Harry and lightly nudge him with his elbow. “You’re all good” he said “You brought donuts”

Harry chuckled, and took a sip of his coffee in silence.

Zayn stared at him for a bit. He could admit with himself that Harry was gorgeous, and apparently extremely kind (although Zayn wasn’t sure about that yet). And maybe Liam had been right, maybe the blue number did mean something else, because Zayn had always prided himself on having good gut feelings, and his gut was telling him Harry was genuine, maybe the most genuine bloke he’d ever crossed paths with.

But Zayn couldn’t go with his gut alone this time, because the number was still one of the highest he’d ever seen, and because he’d already trusted his gut once, and it had turned out the guy he was falling for was a murderer. He couldn’t let it happen all over again.

Whether Harry was a killer or not, Zayn needed to keep him close, needed to keep prodding, keep searching, because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

“What do you say we exchange numbers and we hang out one of these days?” Zayn asked Harry.

Harry, who had been taking another sip from his cup, spluttered a bit. “Oh. Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that” he said after almost coughing up a lung.

Zayn cursed himself for how _real_ his own fond smile felt, and fished his phone from the pocket of his trousers, handing it to Harry. When Harry finished typing in his number, he gave the phone back to Zayn. His contact was saved under ‘Harry Fish&Donuts’.

Zayn laughed. _I really, really want you to be real, Harry Styles_.

“I think I’m real” Harry said, and Zayn’s stomach lurched when he realized he’d spoken out loud.

He bit down on his bottom lip. “Sorry. Sometimes I think out loud”

Harry shrugged. “I do that ninety per cent of the time. My mom used to scold me saying ‘inside voice, sunshine’ whenever I did”

_Good. Talking about family is good. Means you trust me._ “My mother calls me sunshine as well” he replied.

_Bad, Zayn, fucking bad, ‘cause talking about_ your _family means_ you’re _trusting_ him _too fucking much already_.

Harry chuckled. “Moms”

Zayn nodded, feeling his ears burn. “I… I gotta go back. I’ll text you, yeah?”

Harry nodded. “Don’t leave me hanging, detective Malik. I’ll be waiting”

_Like hell I’m letting you go, Harry Styles_ , Zayn thought, taking care of keeping his mouth shut this time.

Harry smiled and awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Zayn sucked it up, going for a hug. Harry’s arms wrapped around his back after a moment, and when they both let go, his cheeks were purple. “Have a good day at work then, Zayn”

“You too, Harry. I’ll see ya”

Harry nodded, smiled, flashing his dimples just to make Zayn’s stomach lurch some more, and went away.

Zayn really, _really_ wanted Liam to be right about the blue numbers.

When he got back inside, Louis, Liam and Niall were feasting on Harry’s donuts, but Louis still managed to arch an eyebrow at Zayn. “He could have knifed you right there and then” he commented, letting Zayn know the hug hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Zayn arched his eyebrow too. “Right outside a police department? Come on, Lou, no one’s that stupid”

“And we really should stop assuming” Liam proffered, chewing on a donut without a care in the world for The Big Scary Calories “There _has_ to be a reason the number’s blue, right? Please let’s just not assume Zayn’s fit and extremely nice bloke is a murderer?”

Zayn didn’t know if he wanted to glare at Liam for calling Harry ‘Zayn’s bloke’ or commend him for the support, but he decided on the latter. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right. But until I figure it out, I’m not letting him out of my reach”

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t particularly want to get out of your reach either” Louis replied “He looked as happy as a schoolgirl with a crush when you handed him your phone”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Whatever. The important thing is, he trusts me. I’ll hang out with him, and I’ll try to solve this”

“Just be careful what you’re getting yourself into, Malik” Louis said tightly “I don’t want to pick your pieces up again like it happened with Jason”

Zayn sighed, because Louis was right. He’d been there the whole time, when Zayn had started dating Jason, when they’d decided to go steady, and he’d also been there when Zayn had finally decided to sneak a peek at Jason’s number, the bright red 3 on his head shattering every hope Zayn had for a normal, happy relationship. Almost three years later, now that Zayn was past the whole thing, it had become a joke among the four of them. But it hadn’t been a joke when it had happened, not when Zayn had had to arrest his own boyfriend in front of the whole department.

“I know what I’m doing, Lou” Zayn said “I just need to make sure, because if he did kill five people, he needs to be put in fucking jail”

Louis didn’t look particularly convinced, but before he could reply, his phone and Zayn’s pinged with a notification. “We got a case” Louis said, looking at the device “C’mon, Zed. Let’s go do our job and then we can talk some more about your Harry Styles”

 

*

 

_Hey, ‘s Zayn. sorry it took me the whole day to text u, I just got out of work_ , Zayn sent to Harry after he changed into his sweatpants and plopped on the couch under his porch with an exhausted sigh.

He was cuddling with Rhino, his one-year-old dog, when Harry replied. _Omg whatttt???? it’s like midnight!!!! do u always get out of work that late??? this can’t be legal_

Zayn chuckled at the very expressive text he’d just received. _Don’t get ur knickers in a twist, Harry Styles. bad case at the pd. had to stay overtime_

_Oh, okay. Don’t overwork yourself please. u catch the bad guy?_

_Yeah, we did. What are you up to?_ , he asked, leaning more into the couch and enjoying the warm summer air which allowed him to happily be in the open, bare-chested, without being afraid of getting pneumonia.

Zayn didn’t get a reply to his text, but merely two minutes later his phone started to buzz with an incoming call from Harry.

“Malik” Zayn answered, speaking just out of habit and then smoothing his voice with a curse “Um. I mean. Hi?”

He heard Harry chuckle on the other side. “Styles” he said, parroting Zayn’s tone.

Zayn shivered at the low grit of Harry’s voice. “Very funny”

Harry laughed. “Sorry, sorry, it was very funny though” he giggled “Anyway, sorry if I like, called unannounced. But I really hate texting when I can just as easily hear people’s voices. What are you up to?”

“I asked first” Zayn replied with a grin.

Harry chuckled again. “I’m chilling in my yard on my hammock drinking a kale smoothie and enjoying the summer” he sighed, probably yawning.

No, he _couldn’t_ be real. “Kale tastes like shit”

“Yeah, I heard your and your friends’ opinion on kale last night” Harry drawled “I’m on Liam’s side, I’m afraid”

“Health freaks” Zayn commented “Anyway, to answer your question as well, I’m on my couch with my dog under my porch” he added, lighting a cigarette and blowing out the smoke.

Harry cooed. “You have a dog? What’s his or her name? What kind of dog? How old is he or she?”

“His name’s Rhino” Zayn laughed at Harry using both pronouns because he probably didn’t wanna do something as horrible as _assuming his dog’s gender_ “He’s a pitbull. He’s one year old. He’s very nice and loves to cuddle. We’re also enjoying the summer”

“And you’re smoking” Harry supplied.

“How did you know?”

“I can smell it from here” Harry said, and Zayn quickly raised his head, scanning his street and wondering how the fuck Harry knew where he lived before actually thinking and realizing Harry was joking.

“You’re taking the piss, right?” he asked.

Harry laughed. “Yes, Zayn Malik, I am in fact not stalking you. Your voice just gets, like, particularly rough when you’re smoking”

Zayn chuckled, not pointing out how Harry’s own voice had gone rougher while saying that. “Aren’t you gonna wake up your girlfriend by talking on the phone this late at night?” he asked, holding back a breath because maybe he’d been too straight-forward, it was such a bad pickup line and Harry would notice and realize Zayn was flirting too shamelessly to actually be genuine.

Harry cleared his throat. “Um, I live alone. And I don’t have a girlfriend. Although it would, eh, be a boyfriend, if I had one” he just said.

Zayn released his breath and masked it by chuckling. “I see”

“What about you? Won’t your girlfriend wake up?” Harry asked, and Zayn could hear the grin in his tone.

He grinned right back. “She’s a heavy sleeper” he said.

Harry didn’t answer for a second. “Oh” was all he uttered.

Zayn laughed, a bit more earnestly than he intended. “I’m joking. I live alone too. And it would be a boyfriend as well, if I had one”

Harry laughed embarrassedly. “It wasn’t funny, Zayn” he drawled, and Zayn busied himself with his cigarette to stop imagining how that drawl would feel if Harry spoke while Zayn pressed his lips to his throat.

“I have the afternoon off tomorrow” Zayn said after a moment.

Harry hummed.

“So, do you wanna go grab a coffee when I get out of work?” Zayn completed, rolling his eyes.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah. I have work in the morning too, but I’m free from two p.m. onwards”

“What do you do?” Zayn asked, eager for any info, _anything_.

“I work at an animal shelter” Harry said, because _of fucking course he did_ “I happened to pass by it some time ago and I noticed how badly the owner kept those animals, so I got a job there to make sure they’re loved and treated properly. It’s right by St. Patrick park. We can maybe meet there and take a walk? Be a shame to waste the sun”

Zayn shook his head to stop fucking thinking for a second, because all his mind was screaming was _he’s nice, he’s so nice, how can he be a killer, he doesn’t sound like a killer, please don’t be a killer_ , and he couldn’t have his brain already be fucked over Harry Styles, because the only thing Zayn trusted apart from the lads was his own brain. “Okay, yeah, I’d like that. I’ll meet you there at two thirty then” he said “Do you wanna go to sleep now?”

Harry hummed. “Zayn?”

“Yeah, Harry?”

“Will you think I’m weird if I ask you to tell me a story?” Harry asked “My house is so empty and silent, and I don’t like it. I love your voice though”

Zayn’s stomach produced a series of annoying butterflies, which he quickly tamed before replying. “Okay. What kind of story?”

He could almost feel Harry shrug. “Whatever’s fine”

Zayn settled his back against the couch in a better position, and smiled a little bit despite himself. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Safaa, and she was the princess of a very beautiful kingdom” he started, a story he’d told countless times already.

Harry breathed a small chuckle. “Who’s Safaa?” he asked.

Zayn bit down on his bottom lip, but replied in the end. “My youngest sister”

Harry hummed. “My sister’s name’s Gemma” he said, sleep making him speak even slower than normal.

Zayn filed the information away. “It’s a beautiful name”

Harry hummed again. “Tell me about Princess Safaa” he yawned.

By the time Zayn was done with his story, he could hear by Harry’s steady breaths that he’d fallen asleep next to his phone. He briefly thought Harry had been in his hammock and he would catch a cold if he slept outside the whole night, but then he shook his head and told himself it was none of his business.

“Goodnight, Harry Styles” he whispered into his phone, and ended the call.

 

*

 

Harry had been right, because it had been a really nice sunny day, so once Zayn got out of work he decided to walk to the park where he was supposed to meet Harry.

He got there right on time, and he did notice a small animal shelter in a corner, with a handmade sign that read ‘It’s raining cats and dogs!’. Zayn had the vague suspicion the sign was Harry’s doing.

His phone buzzed just as he took it out of his pocket to text him. _Hey, I have a bit of a situation here, I’ll be out in 10min. u can come inside if ur already here_

Zayn nodded to himself and pocketed his phone again, stubbing out his cigarette and crossing the street to reach the shelter.

The sight which welcomed him inside the place made him freeze right on the doorstep.

Harry was sitting on the counter, cross-legged, with a tiny black cat on his fucking head, while he fed an even smaller grey cat with a miniature milk bottle.

“Harry?” Zayn called out, trying to not have an aneurysm about Harry fucking Styles feeding kittens.

Harry raised his head and smiled brightly, dimples digging deep in his cheeks. “Hey! Sorry about this. Someone left these two little monsters outside the door like half an hour ago, I have to feed them before I can go ‘cause Stacey is new and she’s still a bit nervous around them when they’re this young” he explained in his slow drawl, pointing with his head to a thin blonde girl, probably barely out of her teens, who was watching Harry closely and smiling as she embarrassedly waved at Zayn. Zayn waved back.

The movement of Harry’s head made the black cat stumble, and Zayn saw it dig its minuscule claws in Harry’s scalp. Harry hissed, but then chuckled. “That hurt, Digger” he muttered.

Zayn snorted. “Digger?”

Harry shrugged. “He likes to sit on my head and dig in my hair” he offered.

Zayn didn’t even reply, but he stared at Harry while he kept feeding the other kitten, much like how Stacey was also staring at him in awe. Zayn found he decidedly shared the sentiment.

“And you’re done” Harry stated after a moment, when the milk in the bottle was over. The kitten was so much smaller than Harry’s hand that Zayn was afraid he’d squish it for a moment, but Harry was so very gentle as he took the kitten on his head with his other hands and placed them both in a soft-looking tiny bed.

Zayn noticed that all the cages behind the counter were empty as Harry took the bed with the two kittens and handed it to Stacey. He could hear some happy mewls and barks come out from what was probably a backyard.

“Greg’s coming at four” Harry told the girl “Can you make sure all the animals are in the cages when he does? And then you let them out again when he goes away?”

Stacey grinned. “Yes, Harry, I’ll help you deceive our boss into thinking the animals are in the cages all the time”

Harry laughed. “Good girl” he said, ruffling her hair “Call me if you need anything. I wrote down all the medicines you need to give Rainbow and Lola, just in case, but I know you remember”

Stacey nodded and rolled her eyes, gently pushing him away. “Yes, yes. Now go. Your bloke’s staring at us like we’re batshit crazy” she hissed, although Zayn perfectly heard.

Harry blushed and stuttered something unintelligible, but removed the white coat he was wearing, revealing a black t-shirt with the Rolling Stones logo on the front, and tattoos. A lot of tattoos, weird and stupid and scattered all over one of his stupidly nice arms.

Zayn gulped down and smiled at him when he grabbed his shades from the counter and slid them on his nose, finally coming into Zayn’s space.

Harry chuckled and poked Zayn’s shades on the bridge of his nose. “Do Ray-Bans come with the police uniform?” he asked.

Zayn let the glasses slide a little bit down his nose so that he could look at Harry from above them and arch an eyebrow at him. “I don’t even _have_ a uniform, Haz”

Harry giggled. “So broody” he commented, waved at Stacey again, and gestured for Zayn to follow him out of the shelter.

“Do you want ice-cream instead of coffee?” Harry suggested “That booth over there has the most amazing ice-cream in town I swear”

So that was how Zayn found himself with a chocolate and cookie dough ice-cream in his hand, walking through a park under the sun, talking to a bloke who was probably the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. And probably a murderer. That too.

 

*

 

“Are you _wooing_ him or something?” Louis asked that day in their car.

Zayn hummed questioningly, pretending not to understand what Louis was talking about.

It had been two weeks since he’d gotten ice-cream with Harry outside his animal shelter, and things were going extremely well, which meant they were going super bad.

Harry was, if Zayn could use Niall’s words, ‘the real-life rendition of a Disney princess’. He texted Zayn good morning and wished him a safe day at work every day, “because with your job I guess it’s never a nice day, but it’s dangerous, so I’m wishing you a safe day instead of a nice day, Zayn”. He didn’t get upset when Zayn had to stay overtime at the precinct and cancelled their dates, although they weren’t really _dates_ , Zayn guessed, because _nothing_ was happening between them. He preferred to hang out at Zayn’s place, because Zayn’s place had Rhino in it, while his own was always so empty. Zayn had come to understand Harry probably hated his house for some reason, because he always preferred going out or to Zayn’s instead of staying there. Zayn had never seen Harry’s place in those two weeks. He understood the feeling, though, because he would loathe the silence in his own place too if it wasn’t for Rhino, and he wasn’t even as utterly _alone_ as Harry was.

Yeah, because Harry was alone. In those two weeks, he’d never told Zayn that he wasn’t there because he had plans with his friends or family. Zayn had spent all his free time with Harry (although he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud), and never, not even once, had Harry’s mother or father or sister or stepfather called him. He hadn’t shown Zayn any pictures of them, not even when Zayn had shown him pictures of his own family, and his phone-call history (which Zayn had taken a peek at while Harry was looking for the shelter’s number one day) consisted of four contacts: the shelter, Stacey, his boss, and Zayn.

Harry always stared at Zayn with something like a mixture of fondness and sadness whenever Zayn’s mother called him, and he answered. He smiled at their conversations, but every time Zayn tried to ask him anything about his family, he always changed the subject or answered with a quick “they’re not here” or “we don’t talk that much anymore”. Zayn never insisted, because Harry always smiled, but he didn’t smile when Zayn asked about them. And Zayn had come to terms with the fact that he liked Harry’s smile probably during that first walk around the park, serial killer or not.

“Zayn?” Louis snapped him out of his thoughts while taking a left turn. They were going to a crime scene, had just been called.

“I’m not wooing him” Zayn sighed.

“Then how have you two not fucked the shit out of each other yet? You never had a problem with that I believe” Louis chuckled.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “It is how it is. Nothing’s happening. We talk. And Lou, it’s better like this anyway. Don’t forget the reason I’m spending time with him in the first place”

“You can fool everyone and yourself, Malik, but you can’t fool the Tommo” Louis stated with a smile that was somewhat more gentle “Keep telling yourself you’re just hanging out with him ‘cause you wanna know if he’s a murderer. Maybe if you tell yourself that some more, you’re gonna believe it” he murmured “Now let’s get done with this crime scene, so you can be free to go pick up loverboy from work this afternoon”

Louis parked the car at the address they’d received, and he and Zayn made their way to where the squad had set the police perimeter. They showed their badges to the officer, and she let them in.

The house was a small semi-detached property that looked exactly like the other four or five surrounding it; Zayn and Louis climbed the three small steps and went inside, the door already open to let the people from the crime scene investigation do their job.

Zayn almost gagged at the heavy stench of blood he smelled when they got to the scene. The photographer guy was in his way, but when he was done and got out, Zayn was presented with one of the most vicious killings he’d ever witnessed.

The victim, a Sarah Norton they’d been told, was lying on the carpet in a pool of blood. Zayn could see her glassy eyes wide open, just like her mouth, like she’d been very surprised she was dying. Her body was naked except for underwear, and the stabbing signs on her body were many. Too many for Zayn to count.

“Sarah Norton, 26” the coroner supplied, looking down at the body “Upon preliminary observation, thirty-three knife wounds, the ultimate cause of death most likely being the stabbing to the heart and the stomach”

“She bled out” Zayn murmured, nodding “Time of death?”

“Not earlier than two hours ago, I’d say” the coroner replied “So around eleven a.m.”

“No signs of struggle in the room or forced entry” another officer commented, reporting to Zayn and Louis “The officers are speaking to the neighbours right now” he looked down at his notepad “Four of them are the closest to this house. A Kyle Meavers was the one who found the body, said he was supposed to meet the victim to go jogging, and he got in when she didn’t answer her phone and he noticed her door was ajar”

“Sarah” Zayn corrected, taking a heavy breath through his mouth not to smell the dried blood “Her name was Sarah”

_Sarah Norton, 26. Say her name, she’s a person. Sarah Norton, 26. Barely three years younger than me. And now, dead. Killed._

Louis sighed. “We don’t believe in the depersonalization of the victims” he told the officer with a cold glance.

The officer, Olsen, squirmed a little bit and cleared his throat. “I apologize. So, Kyle Meavers is the one who found Sarah, he’s also got an alibi for the time of death since he was home with his family. Another neighbour, a Michael Scotts, is abroad, has been for three months, so we can exclude him too. Third neighbour’s name is Rose Donovan and she’s talking to our officers right now but she also has an alibi, apparently. As for the fourth man, nobody seems to know his name ‘cause he doesn’t speak to anybody. They say he’s a bit crazy but a hard worker, and he’s in fact at work, has been since seven this morning”

“So none of ‘em is a suspect” Zayn said. Officer Olsen nodded, and went back out.

Louis gave Zayn a glance, a glance Zayn knew all too well, and they stepped outside the house. Louis pointed at where the officers were talking to the two neighbours who were present at the scene. Zayn stared at them for a moment, and sighed when he distinctly saw the two red zeroes on their heads. “Neither” he told Louis, and Louis nodded, crossing out ‘Kyle Meavers’ and ‘Rose Donovan’ from the list of four people in his notepad.

They got back inside while the coroner took the body away, and for the whole time he and Louis searched Sarah Norton’s room, Zayn felt the usual grim vice around his heart, the one he always felt when a case was particularly bad, particularly vicious, particularly complicated.

It was gonna be a bad day.

 

*

 

Zayn didn’t even question his own relieved sigh when he caught sight of Harry coming out of the shelter. He just waited for him to cross the street with his dimpled smile and his green eyes hidden by the shades, and when he was within reach, Zayn flung himself at him and hugged him.

Harry’s hugs were the nicest thing Zayn had felt in a long, long time. He was taller than Zayn, more solid even, and yet his arms were so soft and delicate around him, almost engulfing him whole every single time, holding him close with just the pressure Zayn needed. Zayn sighed in Harry’s neck, and held him tighter.

“Zayn? Are you okay, babe?” Harry asked, worried.

Zayn chuckled. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… a bad case today. Fucked a bit with my head and stomach”

Harry sighed, and hugged Zayn even closer. “I got you” he murmured “What can I do to distract you?”

_Your stupid green eyes are a distraction enough, babe._ “A movie?” Zayn said instead.

Harry smiled and nodded. “Yeah, movie it is. I was also planning on cooking something for you, I found these amazing eggplants on discount and they were so cheap but they’re _so_ good Zayn I swear”

Zayn’s heart did something weird and started thumping a bit louder. “Your place?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. I think it’s time you earn a pass to the Styles Mansion”

Zayn laughed. “Cheers, babe”

Harry blushed a little bit at the pet name, like he always did, and started guiding Zayn to his car. “Not really a mansion, I’m joking. It’s just a house”

“It’s home” Zayn shrugged.

Harry smiled, but Zayn had learned every crevice of Harry’s face by heart, and that smile was sad. “Yeah” he just sighed, opening his car door for Zayn to slide in the passenger seat.

Zayn did, and looked around. “Nice car”

“It was Robin’s. My stepfather” Harry told him as he settled in the driver’s seat.

“He give it to you?”

Harry nodded, and busied himself with the keys and the ignition without looking at Zayn. “Seatbelt” he told Zayn, adjusting the rear-view mirror and starting the car.

Zayn did fasten his seatbelt, but Harry’s hand snaked to his side to feel around the buckle anyway, as if he wanted to make sure Zayn had actually buckled up properly. When he was sure he did, Harry smiled a little bit to himself and drove off. Zayn had noticed that was a habit of Harry’s, to check Zayn’s seatbelt and his own, even when they were in Zayn’s car and Harry was not the one driving.

“I do know how to buckle a seatbelt, you know” Zayn grinned.

Harry still wasn’t looking at him, but he smiled that tiny sad smile Zayn hated, and shrugged. “Better safe than sorry” he stated, and Zayn could only agree.

The car ride to Harry’s place was relatively silent, but when Harry took a left turn and started decelerating, Zayn recognized the street.

“Haz, where are you going?” he asked, feeling his voice shake.

Harry frowned and finally, _finally_ looked at him. “Home?” he said, unsure, sliding into a parking spot just _meters_ away from Sarah Norton’s house.

“You live _here_ , Harry?”

“Yes? Since years? What’s wrong, Zayn?” Harry asked, turning off the engine and shifting a bit in his seat to take a better look at Zayn.

“Do you know a Sarah Norton, Haz?”

Harry shrugged. “Not really. She’s my neighbour. I never speak to my neighbours ‘cause I know they think I’m a bit crazy ‘cause I do yoga in my yard in the morning and I talk to my plants” he explained wringing his hands embarrassedly “But I’m not crazy I promise. I do yoga ‘cause it’s good for my shitty back. And I talk to my plants ‘cause they grow better if you show them you love them. Sarah’s nice though. She says hi to me every time she sees me” he smiled “The others don’t”

“Oh, babe” Zayn sighed, closing his eyes and pressing the tips of his fingers on them.

_As for the fourth man, nobody seems to know his name ‘cause he doesn’t speak to anybody_. _They say he’s a bit crazy but a hard worker, and he’s in fact at work, has been since seven this morning._

Zayn raised his head again after a moment and looked at Harry’s number on his head, but it was still the weird, now familiar, 5 in blue. _He’s not the murderer. Maybe he’s killed before but he didn’t kill Sarah. I can see it and he has an alibi. He’s good. He’s safe. He’s here._

“Zayn, will you tell me what’s wrong?” Harry asked, huffing.

“Harry, Sarah is dead” Zayn muttered “She’s the victim of the bad case I mentioned earlier”

“What?” Harry’s tone was almost a moan, and his big, green eyes widened and filled with tears “Sarah? She’s dead?”

Zayn nodded. “Somebody killed her” he explained “Did you know her, Harry?”

“As I said, Zayn, she said hi to me” Harry supplied and then frowned “Why are you asking? Do you think _I_ have something to do with this?” he asked, voice and eyes filled with panic.

“No!” Zayn exclaimed without being able to help it “No, babe, of course not. You were at work, I… I just need to know whatever you can tell me ‘cause you’re her neighbour. We might need to take your statement as well”

Harry seemed to deflate and nodded. “Of course. Yeah. I’ll answer your questions, Zayn, of course. I’m sorry I snapped, I know you trust me”

Zayn felt like the filthiest of liars after that statement, and also like the dumbest of cops, because maybe, just a little bit, he really did trust Harry. And he knew it was a mistake.

 

*

 

“She was kind” Harry murmured as he opened his door and looked at Sarah’s house fenced by the police perimeter “She gave me advice to take care of my plants”

Zayn sighed, and stroked Harry’s back while they got inside his house. He felt Harry shiver at the touch, and retreated his hand, but he didn’t mention it.

Harry’s house was not particularly big, but was very neat. He brought Zayn through a corridor and into some kind of open space with both kitchen and a living room. Zayn had the sudden thought that Harry’s house was so neat because he didn’t spend more time than strictly necessary in it.

The walls were devoid of any pictures, and when Harry opened a cabinet in the kitchen, Zayn’s heart almost broke with the fact that Harry literally had _only one_ plate, _only one_ glass, _only one_ mug. Only one piece of everything a kitchen needed.

Harry blushed and turned to Zayn, shaking his hair. “Um, I didn’t think this through I guess. I don’t have another plate” he said, mortified.

Zayn felt his heart constrict some more, but managed to smile at Harry. “Hey, babe. I’m not one for formalities. We can eat out of the fucking pan for all I care” he chuckled “And we can share a glass if you’ll have me”

Harry’s cheeks went a bright purple, and he nodded, starting to set out the ingredients on the counter from the fridge. “Okay” he murmured, chuckling.

Zayn smiled at Harry’s back, and cursed himself some more, because that was just what he did those days. Stare at Harry’s back and curse himself.

“How did she die?” Harry asked in almost a whisper while he cut the eggplants in tiny cubes.

Zayn took a deep breath. “Someone killed her”

“Yeah, you mentioned that. I meant… how?”

Zayn sighed, because he desperately wanted to spare Harry’s gentle soul from that at least. Even if he was a murderer himself. Probably. _It’s not certain_ , something ugly roared in his head. “Harry, you don’t really need to know…”

“But I wanna know, Zayn” Harry quipped “I wanna know because she was very kind to me and she didn’t think I was crazy and she deserves that people remember her, so I wanna know”

Zayn shook his head at Harry’s plea, but answered his question. “They stabbed her. Thirty-three times”

“Fucking hell” Harry murmured. Harry rarely swore. “Did she… like, do they think she suffered?”

“No” Zayn lied, and if Harry noticed, he didn’t say.

“Do you know if anyone could have a grudge against her?” Zayn asked Harry after a moment.

Harry shook his head. “I dunno. She was very sweet. I couldn’t hold a grudge against her even if I tried” he said, still dicing the eggplants.

Zayn, despite himself, chuckled. “You wouldn’t hold a grudge against a serial killer, Harry”

Harry smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment”

“It was, babe” Zayn said honestly, and got closer to Harry “But I mean it. We don’t have a suspect yet, because all the closest people seem to have an alibi. Do you know about any boyfriend, friend, whatever you can think of?”

Harry shrugged. “She looked almost as alone as I am” he replied, sliding the eggplant cubes from the cutting board to the pan, where they sizzled in olive oil “But… I mean, I didn’t really talk to her to be honest, if it wasn’t plant-related. So I guess even if she had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t know about him. And don’t assume, Zayn, it’s not nice. Maybe she had a girlfriend” Harry added, pointing a finger at Zayn.

Zayn had to restrain himself almost physically not to kiss him.

 

*

 

Harry fell asleep right in the middle of the stupid rom-com they’d put on because neither of them had felt like watching anything more challenging. One minute he was there, big eyes pointed to the telly from the couch where they were splayed, and the next he was sound asleep, his head falling until it hit Zayn’s lap.

Harry didn’t even wake up at the collision of his head with Zayn’s thigh-bones, but Zayn was very awake indeed and aware of the proximity. When he looked down at Harry’s face, though, his eyes slightly fluttering and his pink lips parted, Zayn didn’t find it in his heart to wake him up just yet, so he let him stay there, and finished the stupid rom-com by himself.

And if he played with Harry’s curls a little bit while he was asleep, well, nobody had to know.

When the movie was over, Zayn looked at the clock and was surprised at how late it already was.

“Haz” he whispered as gently as he could “Haz, wake up, it’s past midnight. You need a real bed or your back’s gonna be fucked for days”

Harry didn’t wake up, but he started squirming and lightly spasming. His suddenly ragged breath told Zayn without any doubt that he was having a nightmare.

Zayn barely had the time to think about shaking him awake before Harry started screaming in his sleep, his hands clawing at his own throat like he was choking, his legs kicking out.

“Haz! Haz, babe, wake up!” Zayn shouted, shaking one of his shoulder.

Harry, still asleep, hit Zayn’s hand away from him with one more scream. “Haz it’s me, it’s Zayn, you gotta wake up, come on” Zayn shook him more forcefully, and Harry gasped a breath, his eyes shooting open and his back arching as he sat up with another scream.

“Harry?” Zayn whispered.

Harry was panting, but he quickly turned to look at Zayn as if he didn’t even remember he was still there when he fell asleep. “I’m sorry” he muttered, scrubbing his face with his palms “Jesus, I’m so sorry. I… I had another nightmare”

“This happen often to you?” Zayn asked, his voice almost a squeal.

Harry shrugged. “It’s nothing. They always pass. I haven’t been sleeping that good lately” he just said, leaning his back into the couch, still mildly catching his breath. “Zayn?” he said after a small eternity.

“Yeah, Harry”

“Do you… do you wanna stay here tonight?” he asked “Just, like, just to sleep. I’m so alone. I don’t wanna be alone. But you don’t have to stay. Just if you want to”

Zayn was nodding before even consciously deciding, because Harry needed him, and so there he was, there had he been since he fucking met him. “Yeah babe, I can stay”

Harry smiled, and his hand found Zayn’s. He entwined their fingers. “I might not have two plates, but luckily enough I always have more than one toothbrush” he murmured.

Zayn chuckled. “Cheers, babe. Toothbrushes are important”

 

*

 

When Zayn went back to Harry’s bedroom after having brushed his teeth and changed into the sweatpants Harry lent him, he found Harry already under the covers, on his side, smiling at him from his pillow.

“It’s August, Haz, you’re gonna melt under those covers” Zayn said with a chuckle.

Harry smiled some more. “I know, it’s very hot. But I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable”

Zayn rolled his eyes and reached the bed, pulling the covers off Harry’s body. He was only wearing sweats, same as Zayn, but Zayn really wasn’t prepared for a bare-chested Harry.

He had more tattoos on his chest, tattoos Zayn had only gotten a peek of from under his stupid sheer shirts. Two swallows were inked on his collarbones, the moth was there in full display on his stomach, and he also had two laurel leaves along his hips, dipping down under the waistband of his pants. “The only thing that makes me uncomfortable are your lame tattoos” he said, hoping his voice sounded calm enough, because the _rest_ of his body really wasn’t very calm.

“Heeey” Harry pouted.

Zayn chuckled as he lay down next to Harry. “You’ve got a lot of tattoos as well, you have a full sleeve right there and skulls and wings and a lot of Zayn-y things” Harry pointed out “So you shouldn’t be one to talk”

“I do have a lot of tattoos, but they’re cool. Unlike yours” Zayn replied “And Zayn-y is not a word. What do you even mean?”

Harry shrugged, the side of his face pressed in the pillows. His hair rustled with the movement, and some locks fell in front of his eyes. He blew on them, but failed to make them move, so Zayn did the _worst thing_ he could possibly do, and proceeded to tuck the rebel curls behind Harry’s ear.

“All very _you_ ” Harry explained, his voice suddenly lower “All edgy and scary and secretly sappy”

Zayn chuckled. “You’re a dork”

“ _Your_ dork?” Harry tried, and winced.

Zayn laughed earnestly. “I guess yeah” he admitted.

He realized his hand was still on Harry’s hair, playing with it, and Harry had shifted a bit closer. He could feel the warmth radiating from Harry’s lean body like a scorching iron ready to brand him forever.

“What did you dream of?” Zayn asked in a whisper, after a moment.

Harry’s gaze dropped. “I… I don’t usually remember, really. I think Sarah was in it. I think she was asking me for help but I couldn’t hear her and then when I did I tried to help her but I got killed too”

Zayn didn’t stop to think, and just pulled Harry closer, hugging him to his chest, his heart roaring at the closeness. “It’s gonna be alright, babe. You’re good. You’re here. You’re safe” he murmured with his lips on Harry’s hair.

Harry raised his head to look at Zayn in the eyes, and smiled the most defenceless smile Zayn had ever seen. “I know I’m safe, Zayn” he just said “And of course I’m here. I’d be stupid to be anywhere else, honestly”

Zayn would have liked to say Harry kissed him, but the truth was that he was the one kissing Harry. When their lips collided, something akin to electricity sparked under Zayn’s ribcage, and the moment Harry parted his lips, Zayn’s tongue was sliding inside his mouth on its own accord.

Or no, that was another fucking lie, his tongue slid in Harry’s mouth because Zayn _wanted it to_.

Harry emitted a short, light sigh, and Zayn’s hands were on his hips in a second, pushing him backwards so he could crawl above him, the kiss becoming more demanding with all those days and nights of longing and wondering and doubting and _wanting_.

“Fucking finally” Harry muttered on Zayn’s mouth, smiling “I was going mad”

Zayn chuckled. “’S not like you did anything about it” he retorted, kissing him some more just because he was right there, all blushing and sighing and kissable while Zayn straddled him.

“Shut up” Harry whispered, his hands roaming on Zayn’s back until they reached his ass, where his fingers hooked under Zayn’s waistband and stopped.

Zayn didn’t even want to question the uncertainty in Harry’s eyes, so he just snaked a hand between their bodies and slid it under Harry’s pants, finding his dick already hard and leaking.

“Fuck” Harry hissed, arching his back a little when Zayn stroked him “Off, off” he added, pulling at Zayn’s pants. Zayn chuckled and granted him his wish, kicking off his sweats and pulling Harry’s down as well. As soon as they were naked, Zayn looked down at Harry’s body underneath him.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous” he muttered, his brain-mouth filter working even worse than on a normal day basis.

Harry smiled. “Have you seen you?” he replied, kissing Zayn again.

“What do you want?” Zayn asked when he felt so hard it hurt.

“I want you to fuck me” Harry replied bluntly, so different from his usual bashful self. Zayn nodded frantically, kissing him raw again just because, and Harry answered to the kiss just as forcefully, while he at the same time rummaged through one of his drawers. He smiled in victory when he found what he was looking for, and handed Zayn a condom and lube.

Zayn nodded again, taking deep breaths to prevent his heart from bursting out of his mouth, and travelled with his lips down Harry’s torso until he was between his legs. Before Harry could probably even process what he was doing, he took him in his mouth.

Harry gasped and arched his back. “Oh fuck” he hissed. Zayn smiled at the thought that Harry rarely cursed, but he’d been doing nothing but curse since they’d started “Fuck Zayn please please” he blurted out.

Zayn swirled his tongue around Harry’s head, swallowing him down as far as he could, trapping his hips with his hands to stop him from bucking. Harry muttered some other nonsenses and curses as Zayn bobbed his head up and down his dick. Without stopping, Zayn took the lube and coated his fingers in it, pressing his index against Harry’s hole and sliding in. Harry let out a moan, and moved against Zayn’s hand to meet his finger. By the time Zayn was three-fingers deep, Harry’s body was a mess of sweat and pleas, his chest flushed a beautiful pink.

“I’m gonna come” Harry warned, and Zayn stopped moving his mouth and fingers, raising his head up.

Harry whined at the loss of contact, but then he saw Zayn take the condom and rip the foil open, and his eyes darkened. Zayn’s hands shook a bit as he rolled the condom on, because he was starting to feel how neglected his own dick had been the whole time, but he didn’t mind it at all anymore as soon as he started pushing inside Harry, his tight heat enveloping him.

Harry let out a moan so filthy Zayn couldn’t even have imagined it coming out of his lips, and he stilled, giving Harry time to adjust. Harry breathed in and out twice, and then nodded, looking at Zayn in the eyes and wrapping his arms around his neck. Zayn kissed him, and slid out almost to the tip before pushing back in.

Harry arched his back, asked for more.

Zayn obliged. His thrusts became harsher, quicker, and Harry took it all, because he wanted to, same as Zayn. Zayn buried his face in Harry’s neck, loving the way Harry’s fingers were digging in his back, silently wishing they would leave marks for Zayn to admire in the future.

“I’m close, babe” he whispered against Harry’s neck.

“Me too, babe” Harry replied, and that was it.

Zayn blindly reached between them to stroke Harry’s dick in time with his now erratic thrusts, and he barely had time to feel the heat boil in the pit of his stomach before they were both coming with a shout, their faces in each other’s necks, Harry spilling on both their stomachs and Zayn filling the condom.

Zayn took his time to actually catch his breath, his brain whirring like a broken car as they both lay on top of each other, not even minding the drying come between them.

“Will you stay?” Harry asked in a whisper after the silence had filled the room to the brim.

Zayn nodded. “Yeah, babe. I’ll stay”

 

*

 

Zayn didn’t stay.

When he woke up with a jolt, he realized it was barely dawning outside, and he felt Harry’s arm wrapped around his side. He was sleeping, his lips slightly parted as they’d been on the couch some hours earlier, and a small smile etched to his face.

_What have I done what have I done what have I done?_

Zayn sat up, slowly, grimacing until he was sure Harry didn’t wake up.

He’d made the mistake he’d sworn to never make again, he thought as he slid out of bed and started silently pacing the room, his trained feet not making a sound. He’d been spending time with Harry to extract info about him, and had ended up in his bed, fucking him into the mattress while he looked at him with those green eyes, those innocent eyes who maybe were not innocent at all.

_I fell in love with those eyes and those dimples and that kind soul, but the number has to mean something, he killed someone, he did, and I love him_.

Zayn had made that mistake once before, and had fallen down to pieces for Louis to pick up.

So he did the only thing he could, and he silently got dressed.

He went away before the mistake became too big to be undone.

The thing was, Zayn knew, deep down, that the mistake had been too big to be undone from the beginning.

 

*

 

_Please, at least tell me if I did something wrong. I’m sorry, whatever I did. Just talk to me._

Harry’s text made Zayn’s phone buzz that evening, and Zayn squeezed his eyes shut, as if he closed his eyes just enough, Harry would stop begging him.

The text was just the last of a long series, texts which started with an innocent and naïve _did you go grab breakfast?_ and proceeded to a worried _where are you?_ until the last ones, where Harry had accepted something was indeed wrong, and had started begging for explanations.

Zayn didn’t supply them, just ignored all of Harry’s texts, so blatantly that even Louis, who was still even more suspicious of Harry than Zayn himself, had suggested Zayn was in fact being a total dick and he had to reply. Zayn had ignored him.

He went home feeling desperate and angry, about himself, about Harry, about the Norton case and about Inspector fucking Cowell.

Cowell had set one more detective pair on the Norton case, because Zayn and Louis didn’t have any leads after two whole days, so maybe the case was in need of reinforcements. All well, if it wasn’t for the teeny tiny detail that Cowell had picked the two detectives Louis and Zayn hated the most. Sanders and Graham were a good couple of detectives on paper, but in reality they’d always been ready to diminish Zayn’s and Louis’s work, keeping on with the ‘kiddo’ jokes even when they’d really stopped being funny, and always whispering like two gossipy schoolgirls whenever Louis took one of his reckless decisions which cost both him and Zayn a public scolding from Cowell.

Zayn and Louis hated Graham and Sanders with a passion.

So when Zayn had been notified they would join them on the Sarah Norton case, he’d rolled his eyes and nodded, at least glad that his shift was over and he wouldn’t have to deal with them until the morning.

He picked up Rhino and settled on the couch for a moment, resolutely ignoring another one of Harry’s texts. He took a coke from the fridge and opened it, starting to drink it from the can in the way that always made Harry scrunch his nose in distaste. “Cans are covered in germs, Zayn”, he always said.

His phone started to buzz, and he frowned when he saw Louis’s name flash on it. “Lou?” he said, answering the call.

“Zed, you need to come back to the precinct” Louis said gravely “Graham and Sanders got a lead in the Norton case. They’re holding a suspect”

“What the fuck? How can they have a lead if they’ve _just_ been assigned to the case?”

Louis sighed. “Please, Zed. Just come back here and I’ll explain”

 

*

 

Zayn entered the precinct almost running, barely managing not to just scream for Louis when he didn’t see him in the bullpen. Louis had texted him that they were holding the suspect in interrogation room 3, so Zayn turned in the corridor, and sure enough, Graham and Sanders were looming outside the door.

“What the fuck happened so fast?” Zayn demanded, not bothering to greet them because he hated them and knew the feeling was mutual.

Sanders sighed condescendingly. “The neighbour who was abroad came back. He gave us a lead, a name, proof even, and we’re about to interrogate the suspect” he said.

“Zayn!” Zayn heard Louis’s voice from the end of the corridor. He sounded agitated, and he was running. Louis _never_ ran, not if he could avoid it.

Zayn stared at Louis for a moment, and something in the pit of his stomach just churned when he noticed how frantic Louis looked.

“What the fuck’s happening? Who’s the suspect?” Zayn demanded, trying to get past Graham and Sanders to go look at the one-way mirror.

“You know him” Sanders offered with a sneer “His name’s Harry Styles”

_No no no what the fuck do you mean it can’t be him he’s good he’s safe he’s here_.

Zayn pushed past the two detectives just as Louis finally reached them, and avoided his hand when he tried to grab Zayn by the arm. Zayn banged the door open, and looked.

Harry was there, sitting and cuffed to the table, his big green eyes full of tears, and his bright blue 5 on his head as usual.

He whimpered a bit when he saw Zayn, flinching at the banging of the door. He was shaking, his lips and hands trembling. “Zayn?” he whispered “Zayn, what’s going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter ended up being SO long! We're almost done, babes. I am loving all the positive reviews, let me know what you think about this chapter!


	3. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis spoke in the cold manner Zayn had learned not to interpret as a lack of caring. “Keep Harry close, and safe. We will find a way to deal with this. Nobody’s gonna be next, I can fucking swear it”  
> Zayn nodded. “We’ll deal with this. I’ll deal with this. I’ll keep Harry safe” he said.

 

 

 

**Two years earlier**

Zayn enters the precinct whistling under his breath, without being able to stop grinning, and is immediately rewarded by a couple perplexed stares. He just keeps grinning, strolling towards Liam’s desk where Liam, Niall and Louis are drinking their coffee.

“Good morning!” he chirps.

Louis frowns at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing?”

“You’re smiling. It’s eight in the morning. You haven’t had your coffee yet. Something’s wrong with you” Niall states.

Zayn shrugs and pours himself a generous amount of coffee, sitting on Liam’s desk.

Louis rolls his eyes. “C’mon, Malik. Spit it”

Zayn grins some more. “Jason asked me to move in” he says at last, taking a sip from his mug.

The reaction he gets from his friends is honestly not what he expected. Liam just gapes at him, Niall frowns a little, and Louis remains stone-cold, his jaw set.

“What?” Zayn asks.

Liam stutters a little bit, but he’s the first to reply. “Zed, it’s just like… don’t you think it’s a bit too soon?”

“These things have to be thought through” Niall chimes in, although already raising his hands in surrender like he knows Zayn is going to snap at him. Which is just about to happen.

Louis is strangely quiet.

“Guys, I… I think I love him” Zayn says honestly, stupid butterflies messing up his stomach “I really think I do”

“You’ve known him for three fucking months” Louis spits out in a hiss.

Zayn abruptly turns to Louis. “What’s wrong with you? Why’re you so pissy today?”

“Because you’re being stupid, Zayn” Louis says curtly “You’re being in love and stupid, and you’re gonna mess up your whole life ‘cause of it. You trust people too fucking easily and it’ll end up biting you in the arse”

Zayn feels anger boil in the pit of his stomach, and slams his mug on the desk. A little bit of coffee spills outside, burning his hand, but he doesn’t care. “You should just be happy for me” he grits out “I’ve dedicated my whole fucking life to this job, people never wanna deal with me staying up late to solve cases and all, and the one fucking time I actually find someone _nice_ , you can’t even be happy for me?”

Louis sighs and strokes one of his own temples with his fingertips. “Zayn, I’m just worried for you. You don’t know him, not really”

“Why, ‘cause he never wants me to go meet his family? It’s ‘cause we both agreed it’s too soon” Zayn shrugs.

Louis laughs bitterly. “Do you even hear yourself? You say it’s too soon to meet his family and yet you find it perfectly normal to move in together?”

“Guys…” Niall tries to calm both of them down, but Zayn is not done.

“It’s none of your business, Lou” he says angrily “I love him, I trust him, I’ll move in with him”

“You don’t know anything about him, not even the most important thing” Louis retorts, staring at Zayn right in the eyes.

Zayn holds his gaze. “What do you mean?” he asks, although he already knows what’s coming.

“Look at his number. I know you never did. If you really say you trust him, then look at his fucking number and make sure”

Zayn feels his resolve start to crumble slowly. “No. No, I can’t. It’s a deal I made with myself, Lou. That I wasn’t gonna look at Jason’s number ‘cause I need _real_ trust in our relationship, not a trust based on the fact that I just _know_ ” he stutters “And, like, honestly. You’ve seen Jason. He’s the sweetest fucking person on earth, I can’t even imagine him hurting a fly”

Louis smiles without any joy. “Prove it. He’s right there. Have the guts and look at his number” he says, pointing behind Zayn with his chin.

Zayn turns, seeing Jason come into the precinct with a smile and directly heading towards him.

And because Zayn has learned to trust Louis’s gut better than his own, he looks.

A bright, red 3 shines on Jason’s head.

 _His_ Jason, the sweetest fucking person on earth.

“Oh my God” he hisses, his legs giving up. He lands on a chair, burying his face in his hands.

“Zed? Zed?” Liam calls him.

When he looks up, his three friends are around him, and every trace of stubbornness and dare is gone from Louis’s face. He’s just very pale, his hand clasping Zayn’s shoulder with a pressure Zayn has found comforting ever since the day he figured out what he can do, what he can see.

“Zayn, babe, are you okay?” Jason’s worried voice snakes to Zayn’s ears, from behind the lads around him.

Zayn stares at Jason, his wonderful Jason with the blue eyes, the man he spends his nights with, the man who had Zayn splayed on the bed and was fucking into him just hours ago.

Then Zayn looks at Louis, feeling his heart constrict painfully. “How many?” Louis whispers in Zayn’s face.

“Three” Zayn says, the word burning his throat.

Jason is still staring at all of them with a frown, waiting for Zayn to finally do something.

So Zayn stands up, and does something.

“Jason, you’re in custody for triple homicide” he says, schooling his features and voice into nothing at all “You have the right to remain silent” he adds, not bothering to complete reciting his rights.

Jason laughs. “What, babe?” he asks “You okay?”

“I’m fucking peachy” Zayn replies, and while Jason is still astounded, Zayn cuffs him.

 

*

 

It takes almost no time to find out Jason has killed his father, mother and little sister.

It takes an absurdly short time to shatter whatever life Zayn was dreaming to have with the man he’s fallen in love with.

All it takes is a search through the police department engine, and it turns out the three people have been declared missing by some relatives a month ago. And if Zayn had listened to Louis from the beginning, and he’d run a search on his own boyfriend when it started being weird that he still didn’t want Zayn to meet his family, Zayn would have fucking known.

Jason didn’t want him to meet his family because his family was dead.

They send a team to search Jason’s major places of interest, and they find the bodies in Jason’s basement, chopped off and hidden in a fucking freezer, right under the room where Zayn let Jason fuck him every single night for the past month. They’d never been at Jason’s place before that month. Turns out Jason started to let Zayn go there only after he’d killed his family.

Zayn doesn’t let Louis, or anyone else for that matter, run the interrogation. He does it himself, stares right in Jason’s blue blue eyes, and Jason tells him how low his family always put him, how they said he was a failure for not being able to keep a job and still living with his parents at almost thirty, how they just made him _so angry_ , so he stabbed all three of them while they slept and watched them bleed out. Even his ten-year-old sister, because she giggled whenever his parents got mad at Jason. _I always hated her fucking giggles so much, Zayn._

After Jason confesses, Zayn concludes the arrest. He secures Jason’s cuffs, makes him stand up, takes him out of the interrogation room and into the bullpen to hand him over to the guards who will bring him to prison until the trial will be conducted.

Everyone is staring at him as he walks Jason along the bullpen. Officers he still doesn’t know the names of. Louis, Niall and Liam, worried senseless about him. Graham and Sanders, with matching grins like they can’t believe their fucking luck, that ‘the kid’ they hate and envy so much just became the laughingstock of the department, because seriously, who dates a triple murderer and doesn’t notice? Zayn knows they’re right.

“I never even liked you, you know” Jason spits out at him as he hands him over to the guards “I only thought dating a cop would grant me some kind of cover. But you really didn’t notice anything was off, did you?”

Zayn doesn’t reply, and stares at him and the guards until they’re out of the precinct, out of sight.

He avoids the lads’ gazes, everyone’s gaze, and strides to the restrooms, where he lets the nausea overcome him and he throws up into one of the toilets, staying there and heaving with his knees on the floor, the tiles digging painfully into his bony knees.

That’s where Louis finds him, an uncertain amount of time later. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just sits there with Zayn as he throws up again and again, the thought of Jason’s hands on his body and his fingers inside him and his hips fucking into Zayn unbearable.

_I let him touch me I let him fuck me I let him deceive me I let him I let him I let him._

“You loved him” Louis offers “Of course you let him”

Zayn realizes he’s spoken out loud.

“Look at me, Zayn” Louis says next.

Zayn does, because Louis knew something was off, Louis knows best.

“You’re gonna take your time to mourn this loss” Louis instructs him “You’re gonna take the week off, you’re gonna cry and vomit in your place, you’re gonna pull yourself together, and in a week, you’re gonna be fine, because people like us are always fine in the end. You’re gonna be fine, come back to work, watch your ex get a life sentence, and you’re gonna be fucking peachy. I won’t let you fall down this kind of hole. You can break now, I’ll pick up the pieces. But then you’re gonna be fine”

Zayn doesn’t really believe him, but it’s Louis, so of course he’s right.

 

\---

**Today**

“Zayn? Zayn, what’s going on?”

Harry had spoken in a small voice, a scared tone that sliced right through Zayn’s heart.

“I want you to tell me everything, Harry” Zayn said in his best blank voice “I want you to tell me exactly how _the fuck_ you ended up here tonight”

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it again, frowning. “Why did you leave, Zayn?”

Zayn almost laughed at how ridiculous the situation was. At how stupid of Harry it was to worry about Zayn leaving him after they fucked, when he was cuffed to a table and accused of murder.

“That’s not important now, Harry!” Zayn snapped “Why are you here? What did they tell you? _How the fuck_ did they bring you here?”

Harry flinched at Zayn’s suddenly harsh tone, and he lowered his gaze. Zayn saw two tears drop from his eyes to the table. “I was home. The two detectives came and knocked, asked if I was Harry Styles, and they said I was going to be taken into custody for the murder of Sarah, because they found one of my shirts in her apartment, with her blood on it”

Zayn felt his whole spine shiver and freeze. How was Harry’s shirt in Sarah’s house? Did he lie to Zayn? Did he know her better than he let on? Did he fuck her? Had Harry always lied to him, used him, like Jason, like Jason?

“Zayn, calm the fuck down” Louis said from the threshold. Zayn didn’t even turn to look at him, but he knew he was there with Graham and Sanders, staring at him shake and flinch while he wanted to make a fucking mess of the whole interrogation room.

But Harry was innocent. Harry hadn’t killed Sarah, and Zayn was sure of it, because he would have seen the number change, but the number 5 was still on Harry’s head, still in blue. So even if Harry lied to him, for whatever reason, Zayn couldn’t let him be accused of something he didn’t do. It wasn’t right. Either he found out what Harry had _really_ done, or Harry was free. No in between.

Zayn leaned over the desk, in front of Harry, spreading his palms over the cool surface of the metal table to which Harry was cuffed. He stared into those teary green eyes. “Did you fuck her?” he asked “Did you have a relationship to Sarah Norton, Mr. Styles?”

Harry’s eyes grew even wider, and he frantically shook his head, tears streaming down his beautiful, lovely cheeks. “No! Zayn, no, I swear! I never even _set foot_ in Sarah’s place!”

The person who was in that room right then was not the naïve Zayn who had let a killer fuck him a lifetime ago. He had stopped being the trusting Zayn because of Jason. Now he was Detective Zayn Malik, and that person always had good gut feelings, he was always right, and he _knew_ Harry was telling the truth.

Harry had been framed.

“Ask for a lawyer” he whispered, barely letting air flow out of his mouth.

Harry stared at his lips, understanding the words Zayn was pronouncing, but he didn’t say anything.

They’d spent weeks just looking at each other’s eyes, studying and learning every flick of each other’s irises, reading stories in them when neither of them wanted to speak a word out loud.

So Zayn stared at Harry, and told him all he could with his eyes.

_Please do as I say, I believe you but I can’t help you if you don’t do what I say, ask for the lawyer so we can pause this whole shitshow for a while and I can try to work on it._

Harry imperceptibly nodded. “I want a lawyer” he said, coldly.

Zayn held back a small smirk, and stood up straight again, finally turning to face Graham, Sanders and Louis. “Mr. Styles asked for a lawyer”

“You did this!” Graham shouted at Zayn “You told him to! You’re fucking him and you wanna help him get out of this!”

Zayn balled his fist and forced himself to stay very still.

“We can discuss out of here and not in front of the suspect” Louis pointed out.

Sanders took a step towards Zayn, ignoring Louis. “What for? Malik is still gonna get his way, he always does, he’s gonna take this fucking murderer out of here because we all know once he gets his dick wet _the great detective doesn’t notice shit_ ” he sneered.

And Zayn lurched forward.

His fist connected with Sanders’s jaw almost on its own accord. It felt like Zayn was watching himself from a distance as he plunged on Sanders and hit him again, feeling blood come out of his nose while he staggered against the wall.

“Zayn!” Louis screamed, jumping on him to separate him from Sanders.

Zayn didn’t listen, and tried to get rid of Louis, but he didn’t manage, because Graham was suddenly on him too, holding him back while Sanders held his own nose, blood drizzling out of it and staining his white shirt.

“You’re a fucking idiot!” Zayn screamed while Graham and Louis tugged at his arms “He has a _fucking alibi_! You can’t keep him here, lawyer or not! You just made a complete fucking fool of yourself and of the whole fucking department because you couldn’t care to fucking _read_ the files you were given about the case and you barged head-first into someone’s place to arrest them!”

Sanders looked very pale. “We have proof. We have his shirt with the victim’s blood on it” he said, his voice coming out muffled though the hand he was holding his nose with.

Zayn laughed. “A shirt with the victim’s blood _and nothing else_ that you found on the crime scene is not proof against a solid alibi, are you daft? No wonder Louis and I always end up with the best cases, you’re fucking useless”

Graham shoved at Zayn, making him stumble sideways. “This is enough. We’re _all_ making fools of ourselves right now, in front of a suspect, and Cowell will have all our heads for this”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Graham on this one” Louis said coldly “But as it is, we have to release Mr. Styles for now, because Zayn’s still right too. The shirt does belong to Mr. Styles, but we didn’t find any trace on it apart from the victim’s blood, and that means it’s not real proof. And you knew it. You just acted on a fucking whim because you couldn’t wait to fuck me and Zayn in arse and show Cowell how _better than us_ you are. So I suggest you get the fuck out of this room, and we’ll take care of Mr. Styles before Cowell gets a hint about all this”

Graham didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to, because all four of them knew Louis was right, as per usual.

Zayn took a deep breath, and tried to calm down while Graham shuffled Sanders out of the room without another word. Only when they were alone with Harry did Zayn turn back to him.

Harry was shaking badly, his eyes so wide they looked abnormal, and his tears flowing so hard he was hiccupping.

“Harry, babe, I…” Zayn tried, because fuck this whole thing, Zayn _loved_ Harry and Harry was _innocent_.

But when Zayn held out a hand to touch Harry’s face, Harry whimpered and flinched, squeezing his eyes shut as if he couldn’t bear to even look at Zayn.

“Babe?” Zayn murmured, utterly dismayed.

“You have blood on your hands, Zed” Louis said grimly.

Zayn looked down at his bloody knuckles, and his stomach dropped, because of course he’d scared the shit out of someone like Harry, beating the shit out of a man in front of him, and then trying to touch him with the same hands.

Zayn retreated his hand, and cleared his throat, but didn’t speak. He just went out of the room, to the restrooms, because all of a sudden he couldn’t stand the blood on his hands either.

His feet brought him to the loo almost on autopilot, because he didn’t even notice when he stopped to a sink and started washing the blood from his hands; he only realized he was doing it when he looked up, stared at himself in the mirror, and his hands started hurting because of how hard he was scrubbing them. Harry was right to be scared of him, because Zayn’s life was washing blood from his own hands and suspecting even the closest people, while Harry’s life was trusting everyone and smiling and treating people with kindness. A kindness Zayn had forgotten when he’d sent Jason’s blue blue eyes to jail, a kindness he lost when he became Detective Zayn Malik.

When he got back to the interrogation room with his knuckles pulsing because he’d scrubbed them raw, Louis was quietly talking to Harry in barely a whisper, and Harry was nodding, his gaze still lowered to the table where he wasn’t cuffed anymore. Harry sniffled a little, and then nodded again when Louis stopped speaking.

“Harry?” Zayn called out, his voice coming out all wrong.

Harry stood up and sent a smile in Zayn’s direction, small but sincere. Zayn’s heart mended itself a little bit.

“Louis said I’m free to go” Harry said “And that you’re about to get out of here as well. So I guess I’ll… wait for you outside. So we can talk. We should talk”

Zayn thanked whatever divinity was above for Louis Tomlinson, and nodded at Harry. Harry nodded back once more, and then smiled a bit at Louis, striding through the room like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He barely looked at Zayn as he went away, and Zayn didn’t follow.

“Pull yourself together, Malik” Louis said “He’s scared senseless, and he fucking needs you”

“I thought you also suspected him”

Louis shrugged. “Something’s off with him, yes, but it’s not _this_. Harry Styles didn’t kill Sarah Norton. But he’s clearly been framed, and you know what this can mean, Zed”

Zayn nodded, nausea finding its way up his throat. “Whoever tried to frame him is gonna be pissed if they’re gonna notice that it didn’t work”

Louis nodded too. “Just go. Take him with you, don’t let him out of your sight. I’ll go talk to Graham and Sanders and I’ll make them tell me exactly how this shitshow started, and then I’ll call you so we can figure this out once and for fucking all” he said resolutely “This case has been going on for almost three days, and Detectives Tomlinson and Malik never take this long”

“Cheers, Lou” Zayn just said.

Louis scoffed. “Don’t thank me yet. I still think something’s off with loverboy. I just don’t like the idea of sending him to jail for the _wrong_ thing” he said, but there was no real heat behind his words.

Zayn chuckled despite it all. “What… what were you telling him? While I was in the loo?”

Louis shrugged. “I told him you’re a fucking idiot, and you usually don’t go around breaking people’s noses. That you did it ‘cause Sanders is a fucking idiot too, and he bloody deserved it. Harry, true to himself, scolded me because apparently _no one deserves a beating, Louis_. Go figure” he scoffed.

Zayn smiled. “Yeah. Sounds just like him”

“Now go. I’ll call you”

Zayn nodded, and ran out of the room to join Harry outside and keep him safe, keep him good, keep him there.

 

*

 

Harry was indeed waiting for Zayn outside the precinct, a frown on his forehead and aimlessly kicking some gravel from the pathway with the tip of his boot. He raised his head when Zayn carefully approached him.

“Louis said it’s not safe for me to go home?” he said, worry seeping through his voice.

Zayn sighed. “We’re not sure yet, but as you always say. Better safe than sorry”

Harry chuckled, but there was no joy in it. “So where am I gonna go?”

“You’re coming home with me, for now”

“Are you allowed to have a ‘suspect’ in your very house, detective Malik?” Harry asked coldly, underlining the word _suspect_ with a bitter sneer.

Zayn hated that expression on Harry’s face. It felt ugly, out of place, wrong. “You can be a suspect to them, Harry, but you’re not a suspect to _me_ ” he said.

“How are you so sure?”

“I _know_ you didn’t kill Sarah, Haz. I just _know_ ” Zayn sighed “Now let’s go. It’s been a long fucking day”

Harry did his weird unhappy chuckle again, but he followed Zayn to his car. Harry always opened the passenger door for Zayn when they went around with his car, so Zayn did it for him now. Harry seemed a little surprised, but the tiny smile he offered Zayn was genuine, so Zayn took it as a good sign.

When Zayn slid into the driver’s seat and buckled his belt, Harry was already all buckled up. Zayn started the car, and sure enough, he felt Harry’s hand snake towards his side to make sure Zayn had done his seatbelt properly.

Zayn smiled. “I do know how to do my seatbelt, you know”

Harry smiled a bit more. “Better safe than sorry” he shrugged.

Zayn drove off, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut while they headed to his place. “You know you’re safe with me, right, Harry?”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, Zayn. I still trust you, even if I probably shouldn’t” he muttered.

Zayn pretended not to hear the last part, but he acknowledged the way it fucking hurt anyway.

The drive to Zayn’s house was very silent, until they finally reached the streetlight just at the corner from where he lived; the light was green, but Zayn saw how fast the car coming from his right was, so he just _knew_ the driver wouldn’t stop at the red light. The car wasn’t even close enough to do any real damage, but Zayn still slammed his foot on the brakes, preferring to having his car jolt rather than risking a fucking accident.

As he’d foreseen, the car just drove past the red light, but Zayn clearly held the desperate gasp coming from Harry, and a moment later Harry’s hand was shoving against Zayn’s chest, as if he was afraid the sudden halt would make Zayn fly out the front window.

“Haz, it’s fine, it’s nothing” Zayn offered, turning to look at Harry. He was breathing heavily, his eyes huge in his face, and he abruptly started crying, burying his face in his hands and whimpering while his shoulders shook.

Zayn sighed. He knew how upset and scared Harry had been in the interrogation room, and he also knew Harry hadn’t had a proper breakdown yet. The scare of the almost-accident had been all it took for Harry to finally let it out, so Zayn let him cry for some moments while he found a spot and parked his car, but once the engine was turned off he grabbed Harry’s shoulders and pulled him to his own chest. The angle was weird because they still had their seatbelts on, but Zayn didn’t care.

“It’s fine, babe, it’s nothing” Zayn kept murmuring with his lips on Harry’s hair.

Harry finally, _finally_ hugged him back, pressing his face to the side of Zayn’s neck and crying some more. Zayn didn’t let him go until he calmed down a little bit.

When he was apparently done crying, Harry pulled away from Zayn’s hug, and sniffled, his gaze lowered on his fingers tormenting his rings. “Zayn?” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah, Harry”

“Did you leave because I was a suspect?”

Zayn felt his stomach lurch at the question, but Harry needed the answer, needed the assurance, because Zayn had been a total dick to him and even if Zayn couldn’t tell him the whole truth, he at least deserved to know it wasn’t his fault. “No, Harry. I didn’t even _know_ you were a suspect when I left. It wasn’t your fault”

“Then why did you leave? Why did you stop replying to my texts?” he asked, tears still in his eyes.

Zayn sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I was a dick, Harry. I’m sorry I left. You didn’t deserve it”

“That’s not an answer”

“It’s the only thing I can give you now” Zayn admitted “Will you take it? Is it enough? I need it to be enough for now, Haz”

Harry stared right in Zayn’s eyes for a long time, without replying. Eventually, he did reply, but not in words. He just undid his seatbelt and flung himself on Zayn, kissing him before Zayn could even fathom a way to fight it.

Not that Zayn actually wanted to. After tasting Harry, the whole of him, and then leaving him in that bed while he ran, Zayn had done nothing but miss those lips, that wicked tongue, the way he went from bashful to a smirking tease in the span of a moment. And in that moment, Zayn truly didn’t care about any number, red or blue, high or low. He only cared about showing Harry that he could still trust Zayn, and Zayn could try and trust him in return.

So he kissed Harry back, drove his fingers through his soft curls, and told Harry everything through that kiss.

_I love you, please trust me, I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you good, I’ll keep you here._

 

*

 

“How could you ask me if I fucked her when I never even looked at anyone but you” Harry almost moaned in Zayn’s ear.

Zayn had his chest pressed against the wall, and Harry was behind him, grinding his hips against Zayn’s back, his hot mouth whispering against Zayn’s ear, making him shiver.

Zayn panted. “I don’t know, I knew you didn’t, I was angry and panicking and you were cuffed to the table and they said your shirt was in her place and I lost my shit”

“Do you believe me now, Zayn? That I could never be with anyone else ever again?” Harry muttered “You ruined me for everyone else. I can’t be with anyone else. You could do with me as you fucking please, tell me to step off a bridge, and I’d do it. And the worst part is that I’m not even scared to admit it”

“I want you to fuck me, Harry” Zayn blurted out, and Harry stilled all his movements, breathing included.

Zayn had never let anyone fuck him, after Jason. When he’d found out the man he loved was a vicious killer who had murdered his family and torn them to pieces, Zayn had felt like letting Jason fuck him had been a weakness, so he’d never let anyone else. He’d fucked many people after Jason, yes, but it had always been the other way round.

But Harry was kind, and it had to _mean_ something that Zayn was a breath away from not even caring if he killed anyone. It didn’t make Zayn a good cop, it didn’t even make him a good person. In fact, it made him the worst person in the world, but he was done denying it. He loved Harry despite not knowing a single thing about his past, despite not knowing what the blue number meant, and there Zayn was, painfully hard, wanting Harry to be the one who fucked him.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, his voice gone rough and low in the way that made Zayn lose his fucking mind.

Zayn nodded. “I want you to. It’s been a really long time. But I want you to do it”

Harry sighed against Zayn’s neck, and gently made him turn, taking his time to kiss him stupid.

Then he nodded. “Okay, babe” he just said, his breath ragged.

By the time they reached Zayn’s bedroom and Harry had Zayn splayed on the mattress and his mouth on Zayn’s dick, Zayn’s brain wasn’t even working properly anymore. He looked down at Harry, crouched between his legs and greedily slurping while bobbing his head up and down, and he thought he’d never even looked at something so perfect.

He barely managed to hold it together and not come when Harry covered his fingers in lube and started stretching him, one finger, then two. Zayn felt himself clench at the intrusion, but willed himself to relax when Harry stopped sucking on him and resorted to place his lips on Zayn’s hip, kissing it and whispering sweet nothings to him while he opened him up at a torturously slow pace.

“Please Harry please please babe please” Zayn heard himself moan.

“Just a little bit more, babe” Harry murmured against his hip, adding a third finger.

Zayn endured it, the slight pain and the desperation for more, because Harry was always so kind, so thoughtful, Harry would never hurt a fucking fly, and he wouldn’t hurt Zayn, not _his_ Harry with the green green eyes.

When Harry also had enough, he scrambled for the condom and rolled it on himself, struggling a bit until Zayn chuckled and moved to help him. “Sorry” Harry blushed “It’s been a while for me as well”

Zayn just kissed him, because what else was he supposed to do when Harry was so fucking _edible_?

Harry took a deep breath when he started breaching Zayn, inch by slow inch, and Zayn felt the familiar discomfort mixed with the pleasure he’d always found in Harry, even before they started having sex. When he finally bottomed out in Zayn, he stayed very still, and probably would have stayed still forever if Zayn at some point didn’t nod. “Move, Harry, please move” he breathed out.

And Harry did. His thrusts started slowly, making Zayn painfully aware of every single inch in his core, but then they both became more comfortable with each other, and Harry moved quicker, harder, while Zayn remembered how to grind down his hips to meet someone’s thrusts halfway.

“You’re so tight, babe” Harry panted on his lips “You feel so fucking good”

Zayn nodded. “You too, babe, you too, I wish we could never stop” he replied, meaning every single word.

Harry moaned a little bit at that, quickening his pace even more, his big hands settling on Zayn’s hips and pressing so hard Zayn would surely have marks. He found out he didn’t mind at all.

Harry raised Zayn’s knees a bit higher after that, slightly changing his angle, and Zayn swore loudly, his vision going white. His nails dug in Harry’s shoulders, and Harry hissed, but kept hitting his prostate until Zayn came untouched, come streaking between their chests. He clenched on Harry, because he couldn’t help it, and Harry came as well, muttering Zayn’s name over and over again until they were both spent, collapsed on top of each other with come drying on their skin, much like the first and last time they’d done that, less than twenty-four hours earlier.

This time, Zayn was not gonna let Harry out of his sight for real. When he sat up and moved to go to the bathroom, Harry jolted up too. “Please don’t leave” he blurted out, grabbing Zayn’s wrist “Please don’t. I felt so alone when I didn’t find you. It was horrible”

Zayn kissed him, because he couldn’t do anything else. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m just gonna take a cloth to clean us both, and then you need to sleep. It’s been a bad day for you, and it’s mostly my fault. So I’ll let you sleep, and I’ll work on this damn case so that everything can be fixed”

Harry stared at Zayn in the eyes, and nodded. “Okay. Okay, makes sense” he conceded, and let Zayn go.

In the time it took Zayn to go to the bathroom, dampen a cloth with warm water, and come back to the bedroom, Harry fell already asleep, and he didn’t even wake up when Zayn cleaned him, the hectic day finally catching up with him for real. “Sleep, Harry Styles” he whispered “I’ll get us out of this fucking mess once and for fucking all”

 

*

 

Zayn left Harry in his bed to sleep it off, and went back to the living room after wearing his sweats and grabbing his laptop. He’d been staring at the files in the case folder from the department’s archive for more than an hour when his phone buzzed with an incoming call from Louis.

“Lou?” he answered.

“I talked to Graham and Sanders” Louis said “They told me what happened today in great detail, and it’s starting to make slightly more sense, except not really”

Zayn sighed, fishing his earbuds and connecting them to the phone before setting it to the table and speaking again. “Meaning?” he demanded.

“Okay, so. What happened is that Neighbour Number Two, a Michael Scotts, the one who was abroad, flew back to England this afternoon and came to the precinct to speak to the detectives handling Sarah Norton’s case. They were apparently very good friends, which is weird because we didn’t find any sign of him in her phone or laptop apart from some very sporadic texts. He spoke to Graham and Sanders, asked them to let him into Sarah’s house because he just really really wanted to have a last look at it, say a proper goodbye he said”

Zayn’s knuckles whitened when he tightened them. “He’s the one who framed Harry?”

Louis chuckled bitterly. “Wait, wait. It gets fucking better. So the two fuckers escort him to the crime scene because they take pity on him, right? He roams a little bit around Sarah’s room, and he finds a fucking bloody shirt behind the radiator. He tells them, they pick it up and bag it as evidence, and then he looks at it a bit more and goes ‘I know this shirt. It belongs to Harry Styles, the neighbour. I remember it ‘cause it has pineapples printed on it’”

Zayn gritted his teeth. He did remember the shirt as well, because it was fairly impossible to forget most of Harry’s shirts. Harry had even told Zayn he hadn’t been able to find his favourite shirt for three days. The problem was that Zayn and Louis had combed through the crime scene themselves, and there was no fucking way they would have missed a bloody, flashy shirt hidden behind a radiator. “So this guy framed Harry” he stated, because it was fairly obvious “But he has an alibi as well. He was in fucking Germany when Sarah was killed”

Was he, though? Zayn was fairly sure nobody had had time to check when Michael Scotts had actually come back to England, because the whole night had been so frantic. “I set Niall and Liam on it. They’re checking as we speak. Ben Winston is helping too” Louis said.

Zayn choked on his own spit. “What?”

Louis chuckled. “Yeah well, Zayn, turns out not the whole district likes to see you suffer. He came to me after he heard the commotion in the interrogation room and asked how he could help. You should send him flowers”

“I fucking will” Zayn promised “So we suspect Michael Scotts for framing Harry. But can he also be a suspect for the actual murder, Lou? Does he have any motives? Sarah Norton never spoke to anybody, much like Harry. Why would Scotts kill her?”

“I dunno, Zed” Louis admitted with a sigh “There’s something off about this guy, too. I don’t know what it is. He looks familiar, but I can’t fucking place him. I’ve been mulling it around in my head all fucking night. I hope Niall, Liam and Winston will be able to clear this out”

Zayn hummed. “I trust your gut better than my own, Lou” he replied “I’ll start thinking too. Let’s keep each other updated, yeah?”

“Yeah, Zed. Harry okay?”

Zayn nodded before remembering Louis couldn’t see him. “Yes. He’s asleep. It’s been quite a day for him as well”

“I can only imagine. Okay then, goodnight for now”

“Goodnight, Lou” Zayn said, and hung up.

He pulled the earbuds out of his ears and stared at Sarah’s pictures in the case folder for a while, her shy smile burning through Zayn’s retinas the more he looked back at her. _Come on, Sarah, talk to me. Who did this to you? Was it Michael? Was it someone else? Talk to me. Talk talk talk._

“Zayn?”

Harry’s voice came from the corridor, and a second later he was in the living room, dressed in a pair of Zayn’s sweats that didn’t quite reach his ankles properly, stupid tattoos on display, and a sleepy face. He scratched his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Zayn, it’s one in the morning” he said “Come to bed? You’re not gonna be of any use for anyone if you overwork yourself sick”

Zayn shook his head, pulling open a picture of Michael Scotts and sending a forced smile in Harry’s direction. “I can’t, babe. I just got a lead. Someone framed you, and we’re about to find out who”

Harry’s jaw tightened, and he stood still, not getting closer to Zayn when he saw the computer was open on the department’s page. “You have a name?”

Zayn nodded, turning his attention to Scotts’s picture. He understood Louis’s feeling, because it was the same he was experiencing right now. The guy had dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion, and he looked very familiar for some reason. “We think it’s Michael Scotts, your neighbour” Zayn told Harry, because it was just fair to tell him, even if the rules wouldn’t allow it. Louis and Zayn had never been particularly fond of rules.

Harry frowned, getting closer and finally allowing himself to look at Zayn’s computer. “What, him? Isn’t he like your friend? That’s what he told me?”

Zayn felt like someone had pulled the ground from under his feet for how his stomach flipped. His hands balled into fists and he turned to look back at Harry so quick he had whiplash. “You spoke to him? Harry, have you spoken to this man recently?”

Harry was still frowning as he nodded. “Yeah, like, I think it was the day before Sarah was murdered” he said, his mouth taking a sad curve.

“ _He was already here?_ ” Zayn shouted, and Harry flinched.

He was there, he spoke to Harry, Harry could know something without even realizing. And what had he said about Michael being Zayn’s friend? _What does it mean what does it mean what does it mean._

Zayn took a deep breath and forced his voice to calm down. “Harry, sit” he slowly said, pulling a chair from under the table for him “Sit and tell me exactly when you spoke to this man, what you talked about, and what the fuck do you mean when you say he’s my friend”

Harry obeyed, sitting on the chair Zayn was pointing. When he did, his knees bumped into Zayn’s, but he didn’t put any distance between them. Zayn appreciated it.

“I never spoke to him before. He was my neighbour but he went to Germany months ago, so I was actually surprised to see him. He came to say hi to me, which was even weirder, he asked me how I was doing, which is the weirdest thing. Nobody ever speaks to me except Sarah, I told you. He seemed nice, he told me he’d gotten home early but he wanted to surprise his friends and he was staying somewhere else so his friends wouldn’t see him”

 _Motherfucker._ “Okay. What then?”

Harry shrugged. “He told me he studied legal medicine in Germany, that he wants to be a coroner, work for the police department. So I told him my boyfriend works in the police as well, I mean, I know you’re not my boyfriend and I’m sorry I said it but it just slipped I guess” he fidgeted with the string of his sweats, his voice starting to ramble.

Zayn fought to keep his focus. “You told him my name?”

“No, it’s not like I go around telling people about other people’s business” Harry said indignantly “I just said I know how hard you studied and worked for it, and that he should do the same, because it’s not like the police just hired you for your cheekbones” he said with a small smile.

Zayn’s heart was threatening to come out of his chest. “Keep going”

“When I talked about your cheekbones he smiled and asked me if my boyfriend’s name was Zayn Malik. He said he’s your friend, he knew how long you’ve been working in the police and shit!” Harry exclaimed as a justification when he noticed how bad Zayn was shaking.

_This is about me. This is not about Sarah at all. Michael Scotts somehow knows me and he framed Harry to get to me._

“Did he say anything else? Harry, please, this is important” Zayn tried not to scream.

Harry shook his head. “No, babe, I swear. He just went. I never saw him again. Why does it matter?”

“Because he’s not my friend, Harry, I don’t even know who he is, but if he knows _me_ , that means he framed you to get to me, because you told him you were my boyfriend. And that can’t be good”

Harry’s face paled, and his gaze lowered to the floor again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that”

“It’s fine, Harry, the boyfriend thing is not the real problem here, don’t you get it? It’s…”

Zayn’s phone rang again with a call from Louis, and Zayn didn’t even bother putting the phone to his ear, since he’d told Harry everything about the case anyway. He just answered and put him on speaker.

“Zed, fucking hell” Louis breathed “We _do_ know him, this is fucking bad, we know him and he knows _you_ ”

Zayn took a shaky breath. “What do you mean?”

“Look at him, Zayn! Look at his fucking face, his fucking eyes, his fucking _surname_!” Louis screamed.

And because Louis always knew best, Zayn obeyed, and looked.

A while later, Zayn would ask himself _how the fuck_ he didn’t immediately notice Michael Scotts’s eyes, since that kind of blue had become the colour Zayn most loathed in the world. The colour of betrayal, the colour of guilt, the colour of shattered hope.

The thing was, Jason had not killed his _whole_ family, because he also had a brother, who had been out of town when Jason had gone on his killing spree.

Jason killed his mother, his father, hid sister. He didn’t kill his brother, never even thought about it, and not because he wasn’t there, but because Jason had always loved his little brother.

Zayn saw the words in the case file he’d closed two years earlier, saw them in his mind like they were written right behind his fucking eyelids, the words he’d had nightmares about for weeks after the whole mess with Jason.

_Only extant members of the Scotts family: Jason Scotts, 29; Michael Scotts, 25._

 

*

 

“No no no no no” Zayn muttered, holding his head in his hands and staring at Michael’s picture on his screen. Rhino, who had been sleeping on the armchair, raised one of his ears and whined a little bit at Zayn’s distress.

“Yes” Louis replied “Yes, Michael Scotts is Jason’s little brother and he’s back with a vengeance because you put his brother in jail”

“He wasn’t even _there_!” Zayn grunted “He didn’t come for the funerals, for Jason’s arrest, for the court. Never. We only saw him in pictures”

“Well, he’s here in the flesh now, and he killed Sarah Norton and tried to frame Harry for it, just to get to you. This is bad, Zayn. This is worse than when we found out your boyfriend was a serial killer. This can be a fucking disaster, if Michael is willing to _kill_ just to make you pay” Louis offered in the cold manner Zayn had learned not to interpret as a lack of caring “Keep Harry close, and safe. We will find a way to deal with this. Nobody’s gonna be next, I can fucking swear it”

Zayn nodded. “We’ll deal with this. I’ll deal with this. I’ll keep Harry safe” he said, and hung up.

Harry finally reminded Zayn of his presence by standing up. “Your ex? A serial killer?” he asked, abashed.

Harry’s habit of always focusing on the least important thing was about to drive Zayn fucking insane. “You literally just heard that someone framed you because of me, and the ex part is your biggest concern?”

“Yes, Zayn!” Harry snapped, taking a step backwards to put some distance between the two of them “Yes, it is, because you never even thought to _mention_ you had a serial killer ex”

Zayn scoffed and stood up too. “Why would I? It’s not something I’m very fond of sharing, Harry. Hello, I’m Zayn Malik and I loved a guy, too bad he ended up killing his own family and I didn’t notice for a whole fucking month while he was fucking me”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, like he was _hurting_ for Zayn, but when he opened them again, they were tearless and cold. “Was this what that detective was talking about, back at the precinct? When he said you never notice shit when you get your dick wet? Is this what I was, Zayn? Getting your dick wet?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“What the fuck, Harry?” Zayn shouted “How can you even _think_ this when I was in _my_ bed with you barely two hours ago, having you fuck me, when I never let anyone after Jason?”

Harry widened his eyes in surprise, but it was so quick Zayn wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it. “I have to think this, Zayn, because you always talked to me, but you never told me about the most important part of your life”

Zayn laughed. It was ugly, and bitter, but he couldn’t do anything else. “You’re the one to talk, Harry Styles. You never really spoke to me either. Where’s your family, Harry?” he asked, feeling a horrible grin split his face, because there they went, all the hopes Zayn somehow managed to still have. All of them, about to shatter all over again.

Harry stuttered and shook his head, stepping backwards. “T-This… this has nothing to do with it!”

“Where are they, Harry?” Zayn kept asking, kept inching forward while Harry backed up “Why don’t they ever call you? Why are you so alone? Why doesn’t your mother visit you? Where’s your father, your stepfather? Where’s Gemma?” he barrelled on. He vaguely heard Rhino whine from the armchair, having probably woken up at their screams.

Harry had tears streaming down his face, and he just whimpered, his back hitting the wall of the living room while Zayn crowded in his personal space, their faces mere inches apart. “Where are they, Haz? Did you kill them? All five of them? Did you? Did you kill them?”

“YES!” Harry screamed, his hands colliding with Zayn’s chest to push him away. Zayn let him, too astounded about Harry actually admitting it.

“YES, I KILLED THEM!” Harry shouted, crying his heart out “It was me! It was my fault because I was driving and I know I should have looked both ways even if the light was green but I didn’t, I was distracted ‘cause Gemma was sitting in the passenger seat and her baby was in her arms and he was blabbering and then he said my name, _my fucking name_ , his first word ever, so I got distracted _and I didn’t look_ and the truck hit us and they died and I lived and I might as well have shot them all in the head!”

Zayn felt like his knees were giving up at Harry’s quick and desperate admission, his sweet Harry who wouldn’t hurt a fly, and he hadn’t. _He hasn’t he hasn’t he hasn’t he’s innocent he didn’t kill anyone._ “Wait, wait, Harry” Zayn spoke, his voice coming out in a hiss “You didn’t kill them?”

“Are you even listening?” Harry shouted, pushing at Zayn’s chest again, his face red with tears and anger “I _killed them_! I didn’t fucking look, and they all died!”

“You said the light was green, Harry. It wasn’t your fault”

“And you think that’s gonna mean anything to me?” Harry chuckled angrily “It doesn’t matter, Zayn. I don’t care about the police reports, I don’t care about what the shrink in the hospital told me when I woke up from my four-day coma, I don’t care about a fucking thing, because the guilt I feel never went away, it gave me nightmares, it made me the crazy neighbour that does yoga for his back ‘cause it’s always been fucked since the accident, the crazy neighbour that talks to his plants ‘cause he can’t talk to his family anymore” he drew in a breath, or tried, but he just choked on air “It made me a person who doesn’t have _two_ plates ‘cause he never has guests, never intends to. It made me someone that is nice to the point of coming across as dumb and stupid and weird, because the last thing my mother told me before dying was that I was being rude to my father and I needed to treat people with kindness! It made me into _this_ ” he gestured at himself, the broken-hearted mess of him, and Zayn loved him.

Zayn cried too, and loved the gentle soul he’d doubted because his own heart had always been a mess. He loved Harry because Harry had trusted him even when he’d probably understood Zayn had ulterior motives to his flirting. Harry hadn’t killed anyone, but he was so pure and kind that it was only natural of him to blame himself. “You didn’t kill them, Harry”

Harry smiled sadly and sniffled, gathering his thoughts for a second, before speaking again. “That’s not the most pressing matter now, Zayn, is it?” he pointed out coldly “Why did you say _five of them_ , Zayn? I told you that I had a mother, a father, a stepfather and a sister. I never told you Gemma had a baby. Why did you know?”

Zayn didn’t answer. _Because your head says five, babe._

“Did you run a search on me when we started hanging out, Zayn?” Harry asked, like he couldn’t believe it but he knew the answer was yes.

Zayn shook his head. “No, babe, I swear I didn’t”

Zayn could have. He did, that first night after the fish and chips, but he hadn’t come up with any results. The thing was, after merely two days, when he knew Harry had a sister named Gemma and he was originally from Holmes Chapel, he could have run the search again. But he never did, because some part of him, the stupid part who still had faith in human kind, had always wanted Harry to tell him of his own free will.

“I don’t really care at this point, to be honest” Harry said at last, shrugging “I think… I think I’m gonna go home. I can’t be here anymore”

 _No no no no._ “Harry, no, please, you can’t go, there’s someone out there who wants to use you to make me pay, I need to keep you safe, I need…”

Harry laughed. “Keep me _safe_ , Zayn? You just reminded me that I killed my whole family, same as your _Jason_ did. You can keep my everything safe, but not my heart, because you just shattered whatever was left of it” he said in a hiss, and went back to Zayn’s room.

 _No no no no, not my Jason, my_ Harry _, you’re different, I love you, stay stay stay, you didn’t kill them, I love your shattered heart._

When Harry came back to the living room, he was fully dressed in the same clothes Zayn had removed from his body mere hours earlier. “I hope you bring justice to Sarah, detective Malik. She deserves to rest in peace” he said.

And because Zayn didn’t know how to keep anyone safe and good and there, he let Harry go.

 

*

 

The realization wasn’t a realization at all, because it didn’t come with a _bang_ in Zayn’s skull, didn’t make him flinch, didn’t even make him happy.

He thought about how much he hated the colour blue after the whole mess with Jason, and just finally understood. Blue was the colour of guilt for Zayn, because every time he thought about Jason’s blue blue eyes, the first thing he felt was the scorching guilt for not having noticed, for having let himself be fooled, for having let a murderer touch him.

So it only made sense Harry’s number was a blue 5. Five people had died, and Harry hadn’t killed them, not really, but he’d been blaming himself for their death so hard, for such a long time, that he actually came to firmly believe he’d killed them. _I might as well have shot them all in the head_ , he’d cried.

Harry wasn’t a murderer, but he thought he was one. So his number, the number which represented the deepest, darkest recesses of everyone’s soul in Zayn’s eyes, had shifted accordingly, morphing itself into something for Zayn to process.

But Harry was innocent, always had been. Harry worried for Zayn when he texted him good morning and have a safe day at work. Harry made sure Zayn had his seatbelt buckled properly because he knew how quick your life could be taken from you in an accident. Upon thinking they were going to be in a car accident, Harry’s first thought had been to place his hand to Zayn’s chest, and make sure Zayn wouldn’t fly away. He’d tried to keep Zayn safe, keep him there.

And Zayn had let him go, had broken his heart, crushed his soul, hadn’t done a single good thing for Harry. He hadn’t even been able to tell Harry about the numbers, not even when it could have meant showing Harry he could still trust him.

Zayn scrambled for his phone and tried to call Harry, only to be met with voicemail. “Harry, please, please come back. I trust you, I really do, and I want your trust back. Please come back” he pleaded to the one-way call, desperate.

Rhino padded over to him, whining again and licking his nose. Zayn let out his own whine, nuzzling the soft fur of Rhino’s neck. “What did I do, baby?” he muttered to the dog.

Louis texted him right that moment. _Michael has gone AWOL. Keep Harry close. And watch your back._

“No no no no” Zayn muttered, his vision blurring with tears as he frantically dialled Harry’s number again. It still went to voicemail. Zayn took a ragged breath, and decided to fucking _do_ something, go look for Harry. He whistled for Rhino and brought the dog upstairs to where his kennel was. Rhino went obediently, already sleepy again, so Zayn didn’t lock the kennel, because he knew Rhino wouldn’t make a mess out of the house while he was out, like he did when he was a puppy. “I’m gonna get Harry and I’ll be back” Zayn told him, kissed his head, and ran downstairs.

A knock on the door made him stop dead in his tracks, and he barely managed to hold back his laugh as he ran for it. Harry. _His_ Harry with the green green eyes. He’d come back.

“Haz, babe, I’m so sor…”

“Hello, detective Malik” Michael smiled from the threshold, where he was standing with his arm against the doorframe, a gun in his hand, and a shiny red 1 on his head.

 

*

 

After all that time partnering with Louis, Zayn had quickly learned some rules needed to be broken. One of the rules he always followed, though, was that he _never forgot_ to place his gun in the automatic drawer he’d built in his nightstand. It was a safety rule, and safety rules were very important.

He cursed it, though, when Michael pushed him inside his apartment with the tip of his gun, and Zayn’s own gun was secured in the nightstand, so far away from his reach.

“You know, when I talked to your crazy boyfriend, I couldn’t fucking believe my luck” Michael said with a grin, still pointing the gun at Zayn and gesturing to the chair. Zayn sat down.

“He’s not crazy” he replied coldly.

Michael laughed. “Oh, come on, Malik, he talks to his fucking plants” he sighed “Anyway. I saw the two of you walking in the park, eating ice-cream like fucking teenagers, some days ago. I wasn’t sure it was him, though, so I went to talk to him, I figured he’d be eager to talk to a real human being for once. When he started blabbering about your cheekbones I was _this_ close to fucking laugh in his face, I swear. It was so fucking easy to go say hi to Sarah as well and kill her. It was even easier to break into your boyfriend’s place and steal his shirt, ‘cause he’s never at home”

“What are you doing, Michael? You could have just come for me if you wanted. Why kill Sarah? Why frame Harry for it?”

Michael heaved a condescending sigh. “You really are a bit daft sometimes, ain’t you, detective? I want you to _suffer_. To _be alone_ , like I was when you put my brother in jail. It wouldn’t have been satisfying, to just come and kill you” he explained “I…”

Heavy banging at the door interrupted Michael, and he quickly turned to it. “Zayn!” a voice from outside shouted. A voice Zayn loved.

_No no no no._

Harry kept banging on the door. “Zayn! Let me in, please. I’m sorry I said all that shit to you. I didn’t mean it. I was just angry. You didn’t break my heart, Zayn, I swear, you’ve been the only thing that was starting to mend it. I was so alone, Zayn, but you were there, you never left, you make me smile and you watch me while I feed the kittens and I don’t wanna be away from you ever again because I love you, so let me in so we can fix this once and for fucking all” he rambled.

Zayn’s heart painfully lurched at the thought Harry was there, banging on his door and declaring his undying love to Zayn, and it might be the last fucking thing he ever did.

“I don’t want to see you, Harry” he forced himself to shout “Go away”

“No! No, I won’t give up on this, Zayn, not until we fucking _talk_ ” Harry replied.

Michael cooed. “Ain’t he sweet” he grinned, and went for the door.

“ _Harry go away!_ ” Zayn shouted, but it was too late, and his sweet, stubborn Harry wouldn’t have listened to him anyway.

Michael opened the door, and Harry frowned. “Michael?”

“Yo, Crazy Neighbour” Michael smiled, and grabbed Harry by the hair, pulling him inside the house and throwing him on the floor by Zayn’s feet. Harry screamed in pain, and Zayn fell from the chair in an instant, kneeling over Harry.

“Haz, babe, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he moaned, taking Harry’s face in his hands to assess any damage the fall might have done, to make sure his eyes were still perfect and beautiful and green because they were probably the last thing Zayn was going to see.

A growl behind Zayn made his blood freeze, and he turned to see Rhino standing at the entrance of the room, his teeth bared in a snarl at Michael.

Michael laughed. “Oh, shit, you got yourself a nice guard there, Malik” he said, pointing the gun at Rhino “My condolences”

“NO!” Harry shouted, and flung himself between Rhino and Michael firing his gun.

Zayn didn’t even know what he said, but he screamed, so hard he actually hurt his throat, when he heard the shot directed at Harry. Harry yelled in pain, wrapping his arms protectively over Rhino who just whined and stayed there. There was blood all around Harry, but Zayn managed to keep his wits barely enough to notice the wound was on his leg.

_Leg is good, leg means he isn’t dead._

Michael burst out laughing. “Holy shit, you were gonna _die for the dog_?”

Harry was panting, but he raised his teary eyes to Michael, cuddling Rhino to his chest. “You’re a monster” he said “Don’t touch him. And don’t touch Zayn. I will fucking _end_ you” he said angrily.

Michael only laughed more and shrugged. “Keep the dog for now. You’re all gonna die by the end of this night anyway”

Zayn moved towards Harry, keeping his eyes on Michael, but Michael was still finding the whole deal very funny, so he didn’t stop Zayn. Zayn crawled to Harry on the floor, pulling the cover from the couch and ripping it to bandage Harry’s leg as tight as he could. “I’m so sorry, babe, I’m so sorry” he found himself whispering as he tied the knot, blood flowing through his fingers.

Harry’s hand grabbed Zayn’s, and when he squeezed, Zayn raised his eyes. Harry was smiling. “I love you, Zayn” he just said, and it had a ring of finality to it, like Harry had just accepted they were gonna die, and wanted to make the most of their last minutes.

Harry, if Zayn had to be honest, was right, so he nodded. “I love you too. I’m sorry, Haz. I’m sorry, this is all my fault”

Harry shook his head. “You did what you had to do, even if I couldn’t understand it. It’s fine, babe. I’m glad I’m with you”

Michael sighed like he was bored, but he didn’t say anything, so Zayn kept his gaze on Harry. His hands were reddened by Harry’s blood, but when he cupped Harry’s face with them, Harry didn’t whimper at the sight, didn’t flinch. “You didn’t kill your family, Haz. It was an accident. You paid enough already without even having to. Stop blaming yourself. You need to let it go” Zayn said, because if they were really gonna die, Harry had to _know_.

Harry didn’t answer, but he smiled and closed his eyes. “You have no idea how much I dreamed about hearing these words. They were the only pleasant dreams in a world of nightmares”

“Very touching, no doubt” Michael said after that “But, I’m afraid I haven’t got all night. You choose, detective Malik. Do you want me to kill you first, or your boyfriend?”

“Me” Zayn said, standing up and pulling his hand away from Harry’s “Just kill me and let Harry go. He’s got nothing to do with this”

“Oh but you love him. I loved my brother, and you made sure I’d never see him again. So tell me, why would I not repay you with the same coin?” Michael grinned “Thinking about it, you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna kill _just_ him, and I’ll make you live the rest of your life with it”

He pointed the gun at Harry, who was still on the floor, clutching Rhino, and Zayn thought his life was over, because he was going to fling himself between Harry and the gun, like Harry had done with Rhino.

But he didn’t, because right then, the door exploded, and Louis and Liam barged in the house, their own guns pointed at Michael. “Michael Scotts, drop your weapon!” Louis shouted.

Michael, of course, didn’t. He only grabbed Zayn by the shoulder and pulled him closer, his gun colliding with Zayn’s temple. “ _You_ drop the guns or I’ll fucking shoot him” he hissed.

Zayn heard Harry cry behind him, and it was the only thing he could hear above how loud his heart was beating. He kept his eyes on Louis in front of him, and he frowned when Louis and Liam just obeyed Michael’s command and lowered to the floor where they dropped their guns.

_This is not protocol what are you doing he’s gonna shoot you what are you doing._

Louis stared at Zayn in the eyes, and then it landed on Zayn. He remembered something he’d overheard one day at the precinct, something that had made him smile. _Tomlinson never trusts anyone, but he never goes anywhere dangerous without Malik, Payne and Horan._

Niall. Sunshine In Human Form Niall, Niall who had killed twenty-four people and had brought sweets to Zayn when Zayn had thought what happened with Jason was gonna kill him. Where was Niall?

“Drop the gun, Michael” Louis gently said “Drop the gun or you’ll die”

Michael laughed and shook Zayn, making his whole body rattle. “I’m gonna kill him! Don’t you get it? It’s the only thing I can do!”

Zayn met Louis’s eyes right then. And well, Zayn and Louis had never needed that many words, had always understood each other better with their eyes.

So Zayn understood, and ducked.

The noise was so loud it rang through Zayn’s ears, and he was suddenly covered in blood as the bullet went right through Michael’s head. Zayn felt Michael go limp, he felt Harry whine in fear, and the moment later Michael was on the floor, dead, in a widening pool of blood.

When Zayn turned, Niall was behind him, having come through the back door in the kitchen, the entrance Michael didn’t know about, but the lads of course knew, because they knew Zayn’s place like the back of their hands. Niall sighed in relief and holstered his gun, and Zayn saw his red 24 slowly morph into a 25.

Zayn didn’t say anything. He just kneeled down by Harry again, his beautiful Harry who was shaking and very pale. “I don’t feel that great, Zayn” he murmured, and then he passed out.

“He needs an ambulance” Louis said.

“On its way” Liam assured, just ending the call to the medics.

And because Zayn hadn’t been sleeping properly in days, because Harry was hurt, and because they all almost died, he passed out too.

 

*

 

It was while Harry was asleep in his hospital bed, sleeping off the heavy pain meds the doctors had given him after stitching his leg up, that Zayn finally run the search on Harry and Gemma Styles.

He was hit with a single result, a confirmation that yes, if he’d wanted to, he would have found what had happened to Harry in a matter of seconds. The police report for the car accident featured a picture of Harry, five years ago said the date, his hair very short but still very curly, cuts all over his face. On his eyebrow, his cheek, his chin, the side of his jaw.

Zayn read all about the accident. How Harry was driving, his sister sitting in the passenger seat with her one-year-old baby, his mother, father and stepfather in the backseat. He learned how another car hadn’t stopped at the red light at the crossroad, resulting in a frontal accident. Gemma, who wasn’t wearing a seatbelt because it prevented her from properly holding Harry’s nephew, had flown out of the vehicle when the front window broke, and the two bodies had been found metres away from the place of impact. Anne, Des and Robin had also died on the spot, while Harry had slipped into a coma that had lasted four days. Upon waking up, he’d demanded to know how his family was, and had gone into a state of shock for two weeks when they’d told him they were all dead. A psychiatrist had followed him until he got out of his mutism, and for two years after that. He’d recovered, at least on paper, moved to his current place, and proceeded to live alone forever, although the report didn’t state that last part of course.

Zayn’s heart broke a hundred times as he closed the laptop and looked at his Harry, still asleep. He quietly slid into bed with him, taking care of not removing any IV needles and of not touching his hurt leg, and he sadly smiled at Harry’s face, tracing his fingers on his face, where the wounds of the accident had once been.

Harry’s green green eyes opened, and he immediately understood which spots on his face Zayn was touching, because he stayed very still, just looking at Zayn, tears in his eyes.

“You didn’t kill them” Zayn said surely “You think you did, but I’m sure you didn’t. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me and listen to me a little bit more, I can tell you why I know”

Harry smiled, and kissed Zayn, just a fleeting press of his lips. “I don’t need to forgive you. And I’ll always listen”

So Zayn held him closer, and told Harry everything, not with his eyes this time, but with his words.

Harry listened, and didn’t think Zayn was crazy. He just nodded, and kept listening.

It took almost the whole night, but they finally started to fix everything once and for fucking all.

 

\---

**One Year Later**

Zayn comes back home from work fucking exhausted, and as soon as he enters his place, he’s met with happy barks and giggles and the sound of something being nailed to the wall.

“I’m home!” he shouts, frowning.

“Hey babe! Living room!” Harry shouts back, with his slow drawl that will probably kill Zayn sooner or later.

When Zayn finally gets to the living room, Harry is indeed nailing things to the walls. The things being three framed pictures. To a closer inspection, Zayn finds out the pictures feature the people Zayn has only ever seen once, in a police report about the accident that ruined his love’s life.

Harry smiles at him. “I thought… I thought it was time to finally hang these” he says sheepishly “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you. But you said this is my home too now. And they deserve to be remembered, so I thought I’d finally take their pictures out of my boxes”

Zayn smiles and pulls Harry for a hug.

When he lets him go, his eyes are so very green and happy Zayn almost bursts with it.

And then, something happens. Zayn rarely looks at Harry’s blue 5 these days, but he has to look now, because the number is suddenly changing, moving and shimmering, until it’s gone, morphed into a lovely, normal red zero.

Harry looks at Zayn, sees him look at something above his head, and smiles. “I think it’s time I let this go. I remember what you told me a year ago. I think I’m ready now” he just says.

Zayn laughs, picks him up by the hips, and kisses the shit out of him just because he can.

 _He’s good, he’s safe, he’s here_ , he thinks, and kisses him again even when Harry squeals and demands that Zayn finally put him down.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is finally done.  
> I think this has been the most difficult thing I've ever written. I'm very sorry for making poor Harry so heartbroken, believe me, it broke my heart as well.  
> Thank you all for all your lovely comments, keep them coming, I'd love to hear what you think of this now that it's over. You'll also find me on tumblr at wont-you-stay-till-the-am.tumblr.com.  
> Till next time!


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